


Good Tidings We (Don't) Bring

by bs13



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: F/F, Set during Christmas, The Family Man AU, angst-y in some minor parts but mostly fluffy, butchering of the French language, mostly by me, there's some minor Delphine/Leekie stuff but not much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-08
Updated: 2016-03-04
Packaged: 2018-04-03 12:26:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 31,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4100860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bs13/pseuds/bs13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Delphine Cormier thinks she has it all; she's going to be married, has a successful job, and is overall secure with her place in the world. But why, out of nowhere, does she wake up one day next to the person she would least expect to...and why has her life been changed beyond recognition?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. {Prologue} To Be Wed

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing for OB, and I recently just binge-watched the show, so my characterization will probably be shitty. I haven't written in a while, so I'm pretty rusty, but I'm trying to get the hang of things right now. This first chapter is kind of slow, but it'll pick up next chapter for sure! :)
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Orphan Black

"We have to make a reservation for our wedding soon."

Delphine Cormier nods convincingly as she takes a sip of her third—or is it her fourth?—glass of wine. She wants to be interested, she really does, but she's so tired of this wedding talk; considering she's just gotten engaged last week, the fact should be pretty worrying. But, she muses after another sip, no one has ever had such a strange engagement.

"I found just the place for our venue," continues Aldous, looking as strangely serious as usual.

_He was like that when he proposed,_  Delphine thinks to herself, and then internally questions, _was it a proposal?_ Because she remembers very well that he'd just handed her the ring box, and without waiting for an answer, had slipped the ring on her finger as soon as she'd opened the box.

"You will marry me, won't you?" he'd asked afterwards, like he'd just remembered he had to ask.

Delphine almost giggles into her wine at the memory. She remembers how bewildered she must have looked, and how slowly her yes had come, and even more how very much it felt like she was making a business deal she couldn't get out of. The curt nod and thin smile Aldous had given after she had said yes had only worsened that feeling; Delphine almost wishes she could take it back.

"It's spacious," Aldous continues now (not noticing her almost-lapse), "so you may invite anyone you wish. It is quite beautiful, too; I didn't take any pictures, but I'm sure you'll like it. You trust my judgment, don't you?"

"Mmm, of course," Delphine hums as she empties her glass, only half-truthful.

Aldous notices she's finished her glass and waves the waiter over, and it's sad how it's the one thing he's noticed all night. Delphine wishes she could call it a night and just go home, but as the waiter—a skinny young man whose name tag says Felix—comes back, she allows her glass to be refilled, muttering a quiet thank-you.

"Good, I'm glad you do," Aldous says. "I'll take you to see the venue tomorrow morning, and we'll sign the paperwork to reserve it as soon as possible. They want a down payment, but don't worry, I'll take care of it..."

Delphine nods, listening halfheartedly, but her head is swimming. Doesn't he realize she could care less about this big, gorgeous venue? Her family is small, and her circle of friends even smaller. She doesn't need a big venue. She doesn't even need a big wedding. She doesn't _want_ a big wedding, really.

The waiter comes by, giving Delphine a sympathetic look. Delphine had suspected she looked half-asleep, and the waiter's pity confirms it. She quickly sits up and pushes her glass away, trying to blink awake. This is her wedding. She ought to be happy. She ought to be excited. She ought to be...anything than bored. Which isn't working out.

"Excuse me, Aldous, I think I'll go wash up," Delphine says quickly.

Aldous accepts that with a nod. "Should I order something in the meantime? Dessert?"

"Non, I will be quick." Delphine grabs her purse and heads to the washroom, but at the last minute, veers away and heads through an exit nearby. The cold night air greets her, and she welcomes it greedily; she had not realized how stuffy it was inside.

Delphine decides to light up and wait a few minutes to clear her head. She wishes she could tell herself that it isn't Aldous stifling her, and that her life is fine as it is, but she is completely lost. She isn't sure why she is so lost over this; her life is exactly how she'd imagined for herself. She's successful. She is to be wed. Everything is going in the right direction and she should be loving it.

"My life is wonderful," Delphine whispers as she exhales a puff of cigarette smoke, trying to convince herself.

"Ya don't sound so sure," comes an unknown voice to her right.

Delphine starts, almost dropping her cigarette as she whips her head to stare. Standing next to her is a shorter woman, hands stuffed into an oversized jacket's pockets, the hood thrown over her face. As Delphine stares, the woman turns to meet her eyes.

"Can I steal one of those?" the woman asks, gesturing to Delphine's cigarette.

Delphine only hands one over silently, watching as the woman takes gloved hands out of her pockets to take it. Delphine lights it once it is in the stranger's mouth, then resolves to stare. She isn't sure what to do when strange women with heavy eye makeup talk to her. She isn't even sure if she should speak back.

"Thanks," the woman mutters around the cigarette in her mouth before taking a drag. She blows out a puff of smoke in an unexperienced manner, as if she's about to cough any second, but she shakes it off and looks at Delphine more clearly. "You really think your life is wonderful?" 

Delphine doesn't realize her mouth is open until she feels how dry it is. "Um," she manages, swallowing quickly, "I...oui. I mean, yes. Yes, my life is fine." She quickly takes another drag of her cigarette to avoid continuing.

The woman shakes her head, taking her cigarette out of her mouth and flicking it at the floor in disgust. "You keep sayin' that, and you might make me hurl," she says. "I'm calling bullshit. You aren't happy."

Delphine blinks, confused. "I'm sorry...you..."

"I know what's going on with you, Cormier," the woman says bluntly. "Your life i'nt that great. But lucky for you, I'm here to call you out on your shit."

Delphine slowly moves to head towards the exit. "You must have me confused for someone else," she says, fumbling to pull her bag to her chest in a panic. "I do not—I am not—"

The woman snorts. "Bloody hell," she says, "you think I'm tryin' to murder you. Well, trust me, if I wanted you dead, you'd be dead. Magic wielders have rules, though, so sorry to burst your bubble."

Delphine looks around the street frantically, as if trying to find where this crazy, (hopefully) drunk women could have come from. Oddly, though, everything looks deserted; there are no more cars, every storefront is unlit, and no people are in sight. Delphine's fingers close on the restaurant door handle, fully intending to go back in, but then the woman steps closer, dark eyes earnestly focused on Delphine's face, and Delphine finds herself unable to move.

"I guess I'm scaring you," the woman says. "This shite just...it don't come easy, yeah?" She shakes her head slightly. "I'm Sarah," she introduces herself, "if that helps any."

"It is nice to meet you, eh, Sarah, but I must get going," Delphine says awkwardly.

"O'course. Gotta get back to your dotting fiancé, am I right?" Sarah says dryly. "Look, I'm not going to lecture ya or somethin'. That don't come with the job description. I'm really just supposed to cryptically ask you if anything's missing in your life, and then mysteriously leave, but I don't like that—I figure I should at least give you a hint."

"A hint?" Delphine echoes, letting go of the door handle curiously. "What—"

"You're missing something in your life," Sarah states. "So mule your life over, yeah? Remember something you really messed up in your life. Some _one_ , even. I'm guessing I'm right about the someone." Sarah sticks her hands back in her pockets. "Check your phone. Think about it." She offers a small smile, turning to leave, but throws a final phrase over her shoulder: "Oh, and merry Christmas." 

Delphine watches her leave until she is out of sight, and then she lingers by the door, deep in thought. This Sarah clearly is delusional—Delphine's life _is_ wonderful—but at the same time, Sarah's words have struck something within her, because she does remember someone.

Someone who had mattered very much, before.

.

.

.

_"You weren't supposed to see that!" Hands quickly yanked the box out of Delphine's still hands. Glasses were pushed up, and a mouth opened, beginning to babble about the box's contents. "I swear, this doesn't mean anything! I was just—keeping this, for, uh, a friend—I didn't mean to..."  
Delphine exhaled shakily. "You want to marry me."_

.

.

.

Delphine reenters the restaurant, quietly slipping into her seat.

Aldous looks up from his phone. "Ah, Delphine, I was worried you would never come back," he says airily, meant as a joke, but badly said. "Now that you're here, we should discuss flower arrangements. Rachel told me that calla lilies are quite the rage this year."

Delphine tries to focus, but the strange encounter with Sarah and a brief lapse into old memories has shaken her too much; it's Christmas Eve, she's tired, and she just wants to go home.

"That sounds lovely," Delphine lies, debating finishing her glass of wine, "but..."

"Rachel also recommended a few churches for us to visit," Aldous adds, definitely on a roll tonight; he's so concerned for this wedding to be planned, that for a second, Delphine imagines he's _excited_ (which is hard to do, considering how stern-faced he still looks).

"Of course—Rachel," Delphine echoes, recalling Aldous's niece. Rachel Duncan has always been rather intimidating to Delphine, though Delphine reckons that is just because Rachel is protective of the man who raised her. "Aldous—"

"I know, the church should've been the first place to book—" he begins.

"No, Aldous, can we...discuss this later?" Delphine finally blurts out. "Je suis désolée, but I am just so tired."

Aldous looks slightly deterred, but after a few seconds, he smiles apologetically. "I suppose so," he says. "It is Christmas Eve, hmm? You must want to wake up early for tomorrow."

"Yes...that is exactly it," Delphine only mumbles, not at all looking forward to tomorrow.

"I'll come by your house at nine," Aldous says, calmly getting up and handing Delphine her coat.

"I will be ready," Delphine replies, defeated, standing to take her coat.

They exit the restaurant together after Aldous pays ("My treat," he'd insisted as Delphine had reached for her purse). Outside it's cold, as it always is around this time, and Delphine hugs her body to keep warm as she walks to Aldous's car. As she places her hands in her pockets, she nearly jumps as her cell phone buzzes, alerting her that someone has texted.

**From: Unknown  
** **To: You**  
**You must have erased my number by now, so, hey...it's Cosima.**

Delphine almost drops her phone in shock, her eyes darting to Aldous's face as she gingerly gets into the car. He hasn't noticed her distress, so Delphine quickly composes herself and tucks her phone away, pretending her heart isn't racing a mile a minute.

_"Check your phone,"_ Sarah had said, and also, _remember something you really messed up in your life. Some_ one, _even._  Delphine gazes out of the window, hoping the sight of newly-falling snow might distract her, but it's no use—all she can think about now is Cosima.

.

.

.

_"You—you want to marry me," Delphine repeated in a daze.  
There was a nervous laugh. "Er—well, um, obvs. I kinda love you? Wait, that came out wrong," there was a pause, "but I'm basically just so, so in love with you, and—I want to make crazy science with you. As your wife. And I know this is such a stupid time to ask you, but—Delphine Cormier, will you...marry me?"_

.

.

.

Aldous turns on the radio, instantly beginning to hum along to the Christmas song playing on the radio. Delphine vaguely recognizes it, but her mind is reeling; could it be the wine she drank that is making her feel so lost? Could it be something else? She gets a faint feeling as though she's panicking. But there would be no reason to, after all...

_Have yourself a merry little Christmas...._

"You should sing," Aldous tells Delphine in his cool manner. "I love your voice."

_Let your heart be light...._

Delphine tells herself it's the strange visit from this...Sarah. How dare she, or anyone for that matter, tell Delphine that her life is not making her happy? Delphine has everything she wants. She _should_ have everything she wants. She...she is...moving past anything that happened in the past.

_Next year all our troubles will be out of sight...._

"Delphine," Aldous says, to get her attention.

.

.

.

_Delphine stared for so long. Longer than necessary, for sure. But, after such a pregnant pause, she strode forward and captured her lover's lips with her own. "Yes," Delphine gasped between kisses, "yes, yes, yes."_

_And Cosima, Delphine's lover, pulled away and gave a wide smile. "Yeah?" she echoed, her grin even wider._

_"Oui," Delphine whispered, her own smile so wide it was almost hurting her cheeks._

_Cosima's eyes softened. "I love you."_

_"Moi aussi, je t'aime," Delphine echoed, her hands placed on Cosima's cheeks._

.

.

.

"Delphine," Aldous repeats, placing a hand on her shoulder.

Delphine starts, quickly looking at Aldous, who gestures out the window. Delphine's flat building looms over the car, causing Delphine to blush. "Oh, I am sorry, I didn't realize," she says, hurrying to open the car door.

"I'll be by at nine," Aldous reminds her, giving her a curt smile.

"Yes. Goodbye," Delphine says, and she quietly takes her leave.

_So have yourself a merry little Christmas now...._

Once inside her apartment, Delphine takes out her phone again. There's another text waiting, one from the unknown number that Delphine knows is Cosima's, but she doesn't check what it says. Instead, she heads into her kitchen and grabs a bottle of wine, heading to her bed and throwing herself on it without bothering to take off her tight dress (or even her heels).

She falls asleep only aided by the wine, and with nothing but Cosima running through her mind.


	2. To Be Given

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WHO ELSE WAS EFFED UP BECAUSE OF THE DAMN SEASON FINALE. I JUST WANT DELPHINE TO BE ALIVE OKAY SHE DESERVES IT (but that last cophine scene and talk with shay made it seem like a goodbye...*tears*). I'm still holding out hope. Also I've been working on an angsty piece that takes place after 3x10 so...Im trash.**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> **Disclaimer: I don't own Orphan Black (or its horrible season finale).**

_BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP._

Delphine's eyes shoot open, panicked; she didn't realize she had set the alarm last night. The room, as Delphine notices as she sleepily stares at the ceiling, is still dark, so it must be early out. She faintly feels relieved to have woken up, even if she is dreading the day ahead. She reaches blindly beside her for her phone, but comes up empty-handed.

 _Well_ , she thinks, _she must have dropped it after last night._ In fact, thinking of last night, Delphine sighs, expecting the heavy pound of a hangover-induced headache to start any second. She should get some water for her undoubtedly...normal-feeling mouth? _That is strange_ , Delphine thinks, licking her lips. _Usually her mouth is really dry after drinking too much. And her head usually hurts._ Something is off...

And then she feels someone shifts in bed next to her.

Delphine stiffens. Did she call Aldous to come by last night? Did she call someone else? She closes her eyes and dares to turn her head; as she opens them, she is greeted by a mess of dreadlocks. A lump of worry catches in her throat, and her heart speeds up; she hasn't seen that sight in ages. As Delphine watches, half-hoping her gut feeling as to who this is isn't true, the pile of dreadlocks rolls over slightly, exposing the person Delphine's gut knew would be there: Cosima Niehaus.

" _Merde_ ," Delphine breathes, frantically sitting up. She takes in her surroundings in a panic, and sees right off that this is not her room. Her room is wide, with white walls and black minimalist furniture, and her bed with white sheets, and the place kept tidy...this room is the opposite. The walls are a vibrant red, the furniture mismatching, the sheets green, the place a near mess...

Cosima softly groans from beside her, making Delphine turn to stare in horror. "No, no, no," Cosima mumbles, throwing an arm over Delphine's stomach in a half-asleep attempt to pull her back down. "It's too early—why'd you set the alarm? It's Christmas."

Delphine quickly slips out of Cosima's reach, getting out of the bed in a second. Her red dress from yesterday is missing, leaving her down to her undergarments ( _Did she and Cosima sleep together_? she wonders worriedly). She scans the messy floor for her dress, but can't find it, and tells Cosima as much.

"C-Cosima?" she tries, fearfully. "Do you know where my dress is? The red one I was wearing, um, last night?" She wants to ask what exactly happened last night, too, but doesn't dare; she's afraid of what the answer could be. How is she in Cosima's home? Why does Cosima act as though Delphine rightfully belongs here, waking up in her arms?

"Dress?" Cosima echoes sleepily, sitting upright and rubbing at her eyes. "Did you wear a dress yesterday?"

"Yes, it was red, and long, and—" Delphine inhales. "What happened last night?" she blurts out, unable to keep the question in. "Last thing I knew, I was falling asleep alone, and now I'm in your house? What is going on?"

Cosima blindly reaches for the dresser by the bed, grasping at her glasses and putting them on. "Okay, babe, slow down," she says. "I can't understand you at," she pauses to look at a clock sitting on the dresser, "six in the morning. _Why_ is it six in the morning? This is too early. The kids aren't even up yet."

"I need my dress, Cosima, I—kids?" Delphine echoes somewhat disbelievingly. "You...have kids."

"Oh, are they _my_ kids now?" Cosima laughs sleepily, giving Delphine a wide, sunny grin (that used to make Delphine's heart beat a little faster every time she saw it). "But they haven't even done anything wrong yet."

"What—?" Delphine begins to question, but stops, looking around the room, running a hand through her hair in frustration. She feels a cool touch of metal against her forehead, and she jumps, staring in horror at the wedding ring that is on her finger. _What the hell?_

Suddenly, a baby's cries pierce the air.

Cosima groans, leaning back on the bed again. "Nooo," she whines, "this is too damn early." She sits back up, smiling at Delphine innocently. "Do you want to be the best wife ever and get the baby since you're up?"

" _Wife_?" Delphine must imagine that she's paled considerably.

Cosima doesn't notice; she's too busy getting out of bed with a mock pout on her face. "Okay, you got him last time, so fair is fair," she says, and as she walks past Delphine, she gives her a quick kiss (which Delphine lets her do in bewilderment). "Just get the coffee brewing, at least?"

Delphine stumbles backward, watching as Cosima continues to leave. "Cosima, I—I don't—"

Cosima lingers by the doorway. "You okay?" she asks softly, noticing Delphine's fish-out-of-water expression. "Did you have a bad dream or something? Something happen?" Before Delphine can answer, the baby screams again, and Cosima winces. "Okay, hold that thought—"

"I think I'm _living_ a bad dream," Delphine whispers as Cosima fully exits the doorway.

Once Cosima is gone, Delphine frantically continues her search for her dress. When she can't find it, she settles for a pair of discarded jeans on the floor that look like they're hers, and then a shirt and a random pair of shoes lined up by the door. She has a sinking feeling that, somehow, she didn't wear the dress here yesterday, and she needs to leave and figure out what's happening right now. 

She flies out of the room, nearly colliding with a small girl who is running towards the place Delphine is escaping. Delphine almost trips over herself as she checks to make sure the child is alright, but she is surprised when the little girl shrieks and nearly tackles her without pause.

"Maman, Maman, it's Christmas!" the little girl squeals excitedly.

Delphine, shocked, lets herself be hugged by the little dark-haired girl she doesn't recognize. Then, coming to her senses, she detangles herself from the girl's grip (mumbling an apology) and rushes down a set of stairs. She is in a house, she notices that much, a small two-story with mismatching walls, thick carpet, and children's toys strewn about (Delphine almost trips over one of said toys).

As she hurries out the door, grabbing the only set of keys she sees, she is confronted with another harsh reality: her car is gone. In its place is an ugly minivan, one that makes Delphine stare for a good few seconds before entering it (it's just so _domestic_ and _gross_ but technically she'll only be borrowing it). It barely even starts as she peels out of the driveway (how typical).

In the glove compartment, Delphine finds a mostly empty box of cigarettes. She gratefully lights one up as she drives away from the residential area, entering the city. She doesn't recognize the area; she definitely isn't in Los Angeles anymore. Eventually, she slows down to ask where she is, and she is told the very last place she'd expect: San Francisco. _Cosima's hometown_. Why on Earth would she be here on Christmas day? There is no reason...and no possible way...

.

.

.

_"I don't think we should do a traditional wedding."_

_"Oh?" Delphine asked lightly as she continued her work at chopping garlic._

_"Yeah. We should do something small. Crazy. Like a drive-through wedding in Vegas where an Elvis impersonator officiates the ceremony," Cosima joked, and she gave Delphine that wide grin that made Delphine laugh and shake her head._

_"What am I going to do with you, mon amour?" Delphine asked playfully as she swiped the garlic into a plate._

_Cosima chuckled. "Well, marry me, hopefully."_

_"Only with no Elvis impersonators present," Delphine was sure to warn as she moved on to chopping tomatoes._

_Cosima took the bowl of chopped garlic and threw it onto a saucepan. "I guess Uncle Joe isn't getting a wedding invite, then," she said jokingly (Delphine did hope so, anyhow—if Cosima had an Elvis impersonator in her family, then Delphine would never hear the end of it)._

_"Do you want to do that? Send invites?" Dephine asked quietly, opting not to ask if Uncle Joe was real or not. "I mean, I know your family is extensive, but mine..."_

_Cosima turned away from where she'd been preparing to start sautéing the garlic, concern etched on her face. "Oh God, Delphine, I'm so sorry," she said, wiping off her hands on her cooking apron to walk over to Delphine. "I didn't think—"_

_"Don't worry," Delphine cut her off with a quick, meaningless smile.  "There will be plenty of invites for your family, at least."_

_Cosima rested her hands on Delphine's waist. "And my family loves you," she whispered into Delphine's shoulder before she pressed a quick kiss to the spot, as if to reassure her. "Just like your family loves you. They'll come—you'll see."_

_Delphine scoffed. "You have never met my parents," she muttered. "They are prideful."_

_"Like their daughter, I bet," Cosima teased._

_Delphine just sighed and said, "They are a lost cause. We might as well not invite them."_

_"Don't be silly—of course we'll invite them," Cosima countered. "They're your_ parents _."_

_"Cosima," Delphine said calmly as she chopped away at the last of the tomatoes, "that is not your call to make."_

_Cosima stepped away, confused, as Delphine stonily swiped the tomatoes into a bowl. She accepted the bowl of tomatoes when it was handed to her, but couldn't resist adding on. "Your parents should know what's going on with you," Cosima said softly as she added the tomatoes to the saucepan._

_Delphine's jaw clenched. "Cosima, please, drop the subject."_

_"But—"_

"Drop it."

.

.

.

Delphine is stuck driving around with no place to go.

It's Christmas day; most places are closed. Even if they weren't, Delphine feels so awkward and out of place that she knows she would have never gone anywhere, anyway. This place is Cosima's world, not Delphine's. San Francisco is five hours away from Los Angeles...how did Delphine end up here? How can she get back? (Admittedly, she should've thought it through before stealing what must have been Cosima's car.)

She knows she has to get a hold of her cell phone, and try to call Aldous, call her job, even—today she is supposed to have her Christmas shoot reveal party, and she's not even in L.A. Rachel is going to be upset, and Aldous is going to give her that disapproving smile, and...

Delphine breathes in, trying to push the idea out of her head. She will just return the car to Cosima, and then ask to use Cosima's phone, and then she will call for a car. Yes, now that the original panic has gone, it seems like everything hasn't been lost yet. She starts to turn around and drive back, but she is forced to come to terms with another reality: she has no idea where Cosima lives.

After two hours of driving around in a city that really has no need for cars (Delphine wishes she'd had the sense to bring enough money to get a bus, at least, to L.A.), Delphine admits defeat and goes into a bar that is miraculously open. The bartender, a woman named Bobby, doesn't even bat an eyelash when Delphine orders a scotch so early in the morning.

There's a phone there, and for that, Delphine is grateful; she leaves a message on Aldous's phone apologizing for not meeting him, and one to her manager about possibly being late to her party, and she's about to leave one for Rachel (as an act of peace) when someone slides onto the stool beside her.

"Fancy catching you here," comes a familiar accented voice.

Delphine recognizes Sarah instantly. " _You_ ," she says, surprised. "How did you find me?"

"Magical being," Sarah says, pointing to herself. "Or just bad luck, if that's how you wanna see it. I wanted to be doing anything other than this myself." She eyes Delphine's scotch longingly and asks, "Buy me a drink? I don't get paid for this."

Delphine is sufficiently weirded out for today. "Sarah...right? Look, I don't know what you want from me, but—well, I think I should go," she says, uncomfortably. She does call Bobby over, though, and drops enough money to cover her drink and one for Sarah (but is all the money she found in Cosima's car).

Sarah gives Delphine a nod of thanks and orders a vodka shot, but as Delphine is gathering her things to go, she speaks again. "Congrats on the wife," she says casually, like they're two old friends talking. "And the kids, too. They're gorgeous. Got any pictures?"

Delphine's heart sinks. "Wha—what?"

"You haven't figured it out yet? Shite, why do ya have to make this so bloody difficult?" Sarah sighs, slumping onto one arm tiredly. "Alright, I guess I gotta cut you some slack. Point is, I'm giving you a glimpse."

"A...glimpse," Delphine echoes.

Sarah's shot comes, and she downs it without pause. "Yeah," she acknowledges once it's gone. "I'm letting you see how your life would've been like if you'd stuck with dreadlocks instead of Aldous creepy."

Delphine stares at her, longer than necessary, before she speaks. "I...am married to Cosima," she says.

"Uh-huh."

"And we have kids."

"Someone give her a medal," Sarah snarks, obviously used to the shock Delphine is showing.

"And...Aldous and I—"

"You've met, of course," Sarah says. "But I'm afraid he's not your fiancé. All he knows you as is the girl who passed up a modeling career in L.A. for a life in San Francisco. You don't work as a model either, so let's hope your manager doesn't get _too_ weirded out with the message you just left."

"That is impossible," Delphine interjects. "There is no way my life could have changed that much."

"Well, everything changed when you broke it off with your weird chick, right?" Sarah asks pointedly.

Delphine bites her lip, reflexively, but quickly retracts her teeth; she's trying to break the habit. If anything Sarah is saying is true, if she never took Aldous's job offer, if she stayed behind with Cosima like Cosima had asked, then what else could she be doing with her life?

Sarah, as if sensing how out-of-place Delphine feels, seemingly takes pity on the blond. She slides a map towards her and explains, "Here's your address. You might want to get back before your wife gets too pissed."

"She is not my _wife_ ," Delphine argues, her tone tinged with a touch of panic. "She and I broke off our engagement when I accepted a job offer to become a model, and Aldous proposed—that is my life. _This_ cannot be my life! I—I don't _want_ this life, I—"

"Cormier, calm the fuck down." Sarah waves Bobby back over, and Bobby refills Delphine's glass without question. "I'm telling you that it's just a glimpse. Your life isn't permanently changed or whatever."

That does help ease Delphine's nerves a bit. "Then...when does the glimpse end?" she asks.

"However long is takes," Sarah says cryptically, moving to stand up.

Delphine quickly stands, too. "Wait," she says, "what...what do I do?"

"Enjoy your new life. Or hate it. Bloody hell, I dunno," Sarah scoffs. "Just don't murder anyone, try to reevaluate your life, and, uh...try not to look _too_ out of place. Last thing I need is you getting put into the looney bin during your glimpse."

"But..." Delphine trails off as Sarah leaves without another word. She is half tempted to follow her out, but she's always been a bit of a pushover, and Sarah's tone has indicated that they need to part ways.

Bobby offers a symathetic smile, but that's it—Delphine is on her own.

.

.

.

_"Cosima, ma chérie, what on Earth are you doing?" Delphine asked, concerned as she entered the apartment they shared. Usually, Cosima would be elbow-deep in some strange scientific experiment by the time Delphine would come home, but Cosima was just on the floor, eyes fixated on the ceiling blankly._

_"Oh, hey," Cosima said, blinking, like she'd woken up. "How was work?"_

_Delphine crouched down on the carpet, worry etched on her face. "Cosima," she said again, "what are you doing? Are you unwell?" She placed a hand on Cosimas forehead, alarmed when she felt the skin hot with fever._

_"I'm fine. Don't mother me," Cosima half-mumbled, half-complained._

_Delphine got up and went into the kitchen, ignoring Cosima's complaints. "You're burning up. Did you have anything to drink today? I'll get you a glass of water. What about food? I can make some soup...how long have you been on the floor? Did you get any sleep?"_

_Cosima laughed weakly. "You're kinda cute when you fuss," she murmured affectionately._

"Cosima."

_"Okay...yes, no, about two hours, and yes." Cosima managed a smile. "So?"_

_"So what?" Delphine asked, frazzled, as she grabbed a glass for Cosima's water._

_"How was work?" Cosima repeated._

_Delphine paused, then laughed and shook her head. "Cheeky," she muttered, only slightly annoyed._

_Cosima's weak laugh sounded again. "That wasn't an answer," she said._

_"It's the only one you're getting until you eat something," Delphine replied as she filled Cosima's glass. "Sit up and drink this," she said as she held out the water. Cosima obeyed patiently, but once the glass was gone, she flopped back onto the floor._

_"I think I'll sleep more," she suggested._

_"Not until you eat," Delphine countered firmly. "Come, let's get you to bed."_

_"Ooh,_ Ms. Cormier _," Cosima said, giggling._

_Delphine huffed, but she couldn't help the rush of affection that came to her at Cosima's playfulness. "Cosima," she warned, "I can't get you up by myself unless you help. And I can't take you food in bed unless you get in it."_

_"With you?" Cosima asked, all faux innocence and a cheeky grin._

_Delphine rolled her eyes, but smiled despite herself. "Brat," she chided with no scorn in her voice. She helped Cosima up, and the weak brunette leaned on her for the entire (short) walk to the bedroom. Once on the bed, Cosima collapsed with a groan._

_"Better than the floor," she decided after a few seconds, her face burrowed into the pillow._

_"Don't sleep," Delphine ordered, going to the doorway. "I'm going to make soup."_

_Cosima nodded. "M'kay," she said, voice muffled. "I'll wait here, dying."_

_"Don't exaggerate," Delphine said with a laugh as she exited the room._

_She missed the guilty look Cosima gave after her._  
.

.

.

The map Sarah gave proves to be extremely useful—Delphine is able to find her way to the suburbs (where she supposedly lives). The address is even more helpful; the houses all look the same, and Delphine could have wandered for hours in just one block if she had not had it. If the thought of living in the suburbs didn't disturb her so much, she also might not have been so startled when she gets out of the car and hears a cry behind her.

"Delphine! Thank heavens you're alright," says an unfamiliar voice, and Delphine catches sight of a ponytailed brunette standing in the front yard of the house next door. "Cosima's been worried sick!"

Delphine closes the car door. "I'm...sorry," she offers lamely, unsure who the woman is.

"Well, I suppose you want to say that to Cosima, first," the woman says, "so I'll let you go. Oscar and Gemma loved the gifts, by the way. I'm sure they'll thank you later."

"...yes. Thank you," Delphine says slowly, moving towards the house. The ponytailed woman waves goodbye before heading back to her own house, and Delphine weakly waves back before directing her attention to the front door.

The door swings open before she can even knock.

Delphine sees a brief glimpse of Cosima's face, worry and anger prominent in her eyes, before Cosima is dragging her into a tight hug, her face burying deep into the crook of Delphine's neck. The feeling of Cosima's dreadlocks against her chin and her small, warm body against hers makes Delphine stiffen; she remembers this, and it's a dangerous feeling. Then, before she can form any rational thought, Cosima draws back and yanks her inside somewhat angrily.

"What the hell was that?" she snaps as soon as the door's closed.

Delphine blinks, still reeling from the hug. "What?" she says.

Cosima's eyes have lost any trace of wory; they're now hard, disappointed. "You missed it, Delphine," she says. "Ours kids opened their presents and you weren't even here to watch them. You missed pictures. You missed my parents stopping by. You missed _Christmas_. Where did you run off to?"

Delphine tries not to focus too much on the words _our kids_. She fails. "Cosima...I'm sorry," she tries, feeling like she has no idea what to say, "but it has been, ehm, a very strange day."

"That's not an answer. Delphine, seriously, where did you go?" Cosima demands.

"Just...around the city. I met a friend," Delphine says vaguely.

Cosima breathes out a bitter laugh. "Wow, okay. On Christmas? Really?"

Delphine opens her mouth to speak again, but the patter of little feet interrupts her. The little dark-haired girl from earlier comes running, her hair flying every which way in a rush to get to Cosima.

"Mommy," the little girl from earlier exclaims, "Fabian's awake."

Cosima looks at Delphine, as if debating continuing their argument, before she looks down at the little girl. "Thank you, sweetie," she says. "I'll go get him. You stay here with Maman, okay?"

"M'kay," the girl says, looking sideways at Delphine curiously. When Cosima's gone, the little girl addresses Delphine directly. "Where did you go, Maman? You didn't get to open presents!"

Delphine has no idea what to say, so she just stares blankly down at the little girl. She looks just like Cosima, with a few features different (probably thanks to whatever sperm donor they must've picked). It is a surreal feeling, to see this child. For a second, Delphine tries to imagine what would've happened if she'd stayed with Cosima. Would she have truly found happiness in that decision?

"Maman," the little girl repeats, tugging on Delphine's pants.

Delphine blinks back to reality. "I...had something I had to do," she tries.

"But you said you wouldn't go to work. You _promised_ ," the girl accuses.

"...this was something else," Delphine says, unsure of how she is supposed to deal with this situation. She doesn't dislike kids, nor did she never entertain the thought of having any, but that doesn't make her any more prepared for dealing with one.

The little girl stares back scrutinizingly, as if she can see through the lost blonde woman herself. Delphine tries not to let it show how freaked she is, so she stares back, but expects she looks more bewildered than anything else. They're both standing and having a silent stare-off when Cosima comes back into the room, a fussing blonde baby in her arms.

"Look who it is, Fabian!" Cosima says in a high, excited voice that Delphine figures is her "baby voice".

The baby—Fabian—catches sight of Delphine and squeals in excitement, his chubby face lighting up in a smile that reveals the two little teeth protruding out of his bottom gums. His arms immediately reach for her, and he strains out of Cosima's arms in an attempt to get into Delphine's.

Confused, Delphine slowly opens her arms to take the child, and the little boy shrieks again as he grabs at her shirt. Delphine awkwardly wraps her arms around the infant, one hand cradling the baby's neck and head and the other under his bottom. Fabian is satisfied, gurgling something in his baby speak, burrowing his face into Delphine's neck happily.

Cosima stands at the side, smiling softly at the sight, and Delphine swallows thickly, thinking that she _really_ doesn't deserve to see that smile again (even if she finds that she suddenly misses it for no reason).

"Mommy," the little girl whispers to Cosima as if Delphine isn't there, "what's wrong with Maman?"

Cosima looks down at the little girl and laughs. "Nothing, Aurélie," she says, amused. 

When the girl—Aurélie, Delphine thinks to herself—stares back, not convinced, Cosima kneels down beside her and whispers loudly, "How about you go get your present for Maman?"

Aurélie lights up at that. "Okay!"

As the energetic girl rushes out of the room, Cosima moves to sit on the couch, and after staring at Delphine a second, gestures for the blonde to join her. Delphine does so, carefully adjusting the baby to be sitting up in her lap now (she is hopeless with holding babies, she finds). Fabian likes the arrangement, at least, and leans back onto Delphine's chest comfortably, playing with her hands and babbling.

Cosima quietly speaks, then. "I'm sorry I yelled," she says. "I was just worried sick."

"Non, it was my fault," Delphine hurries to say, feeling guilty.

Cosima just offers a rare half-smile. "So, are you saying you're the asshole?"

Delphine feels like there's something to that—something that must've referred to the odd phrase. But it's nothing she can remember, so she just offers a careful smile back and says, "Oui."

The answer is enough; Cosima's full smile lights up a second later. "God, I can't ever be mad at you," she whispers, and she leans forward to kiss Delphine, who stiffens (being fully aware of the impeding kiss coming her way).

Fabian whines when he feels Delphine stiffen, effectively stoping Cosima from coming any closer.

"Okay, got it, she's yours!" Cosima jokes, sticking out her tongue at the blonde baby.

Fabian laughs at the funny face, and Cosima does it again, making him laugh harder. He sits up, alarming Delphine into grasping at his waist firmly, and makes a grab for Cosima's glasses. Cosima kisses his grabby hand and swings out of reach, cooing something Delphine doesn't quite hear, but makes Fabian start to laugh again.

Aurélie comes rushing into the room, a badly wrapped gift in her arms. "I got it!" she beams.

Delphine takes one look and can't resist smiling; Cosima must've helped with the wrapping. "Merci beaucoup," she says politely, taking the odd little box, and passing Fabian off into Cosima's reaching arms. She is not sure what a child could give her, and is surprised to open the box and find a few used journals, along with a few scribbled pictures.

"See?" Aurélie exclaims, beaming a gap-toothed smile. "I'm a scientist, too, Maman!"

Delphine's eyes widen at the _too_.

Cosima is as excited as Aurélie is, it seems, and doesn't notice Delphine's expression. "I helped her gather her research," she says, pointing to the journals. "But the work's all hers, obvs. Original data at its finest. Pictures are her work, too."

"I...see," Delphine slowly says, glancing down at the gift. It's cute, original, and something a scientist mother should be happy about, but... _Delphine is a scientist._ The very same career she'd once given up, at the same time she'd broken up with Cosima.

Aurélie's face falls. "You don't like it," she says, seeing Delphine's bewildered expression.

Delphine is horrified to see the little girl look so crestfallen. "No, no, of course I like it," she says, her voice a bit frantic (she is not used to kids at _all_ ). "I—love it! Thank you," a pause, because Delphine hesitates on the name, "Aurélie."

Aurélie smiles happily, satisfied, but Cosima just stares at Delphine curiously, her eyes holding an unspoken _is everything okay_? Delphine grips the gift tighter in her hands and tries to smile back reassuringly.

"Maman, can we watch a movie now that you're back?" Aurélie asks. "I get to pick!"

"Hey, squirt, aren't you forgetting something?" Cosima asks in a mock serious voice.

Aurélie pouts in a way that mirrors Cosima's mannerisms perfectly. "But Mommy, I want to stay here with you and Maman!" she whines. "I already saw Grandma and Grandpa!"

Cosima smiles affectionately. "Aurélie, you know we have to go to this party. If not," she lowers her voice like she's telling a scandalous secret, "auntie Alison will never let us see her again."

"Never ever?" Aurélie asks in a low, serious voice.

"Never ever," Cosima states gravely.

Aurélie frowns. "Okay," she mumbles.

"That's my girl," Cosima says with a charming grin. "Now, go get your stuff. Grandma'll be here soon." Aurélie leaves with only a few more protests, and Cosima stands up, shifting Fabian in her arms. However, he struggles against her hold, reaching for a still-seated Delphine. Cosima glances back down at her and says, "Well, aren't you coming?"

"To...a party?" Delphine asks slowly.

"Yes, the same one Alison throws every year," Cosima teases, letting Fabian drop into Delphine's unsuspecting arms. "I'll get his bag ready while _you_ find yourself something pretty to wear."

Delphine stares, only comprehending one fact: she is going to a party. One an unknown woman is hosting. A party, at which, she is going to be expected to know everyone else. And pretend nothing's wrong. _Wonderful_. (Sarah really should have given her a manual for stuff like this).

Cosima, taking Delphine's silence as offense, adds, "Okay, prettier than usual, but you and I both know you make anything look good." She winks as she leaves, whistling off-tune and leaving a very confused Delphine in her wake.

 _Was she flirting_? Delphine thinks, and then remembers: _Oh, right—married._

Fabian isn't having any inner turmoil like his mother is, and busies himself with the simple task of chewing on Delphine's shirt. Delphine looks at him and sighs; what she would give to be in a simpler place, herself, with no care in the world (or responsibility).

"So," she muses to herself, "I guess I have a party to get to."

Fabian just keeps chewing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Don't mention the daughter's name. I tried to find the most french name I could. (I need a french beta ugh bc also everything french is googled).**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> **BUT anyway thank you so much to everyone who commented, and gave kudos to, this ugly thing! Shout outs to the awesome people who left a piece of their minds for me:  
> **  
>  Julielein73  
> crieshavoc  
> Guest  
> denise  
> tatarrific  
> daihazed  
> This update took a while...but honestly, if you ever see my other work, you'll know I'm terrible at finishing stories. I'm going to try extra hard this time, though! I promise!


	3. To Be Doubted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Delphine gets more conflicted over her situation. Plus the surburb life includes more not-clones 'cause it's the suburbs. And...Delphine gets to see how cute she could've been with her family?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I used google translate for anything French so I APOLOGIZE IN ADVANCE for how bad of French it is. I promise it doesn't reflect Delphine's knowledge of the language, just my ineptness.
> 
> Sorry it's been a while since my last update...this chapter's just been sitting in my notes, because I really really disliked it, but eventually I decided I didn't want to rewrite it so I finally decided to upload it...
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Orphan Black.

_Washing the dishes wasn't Delphine's favorite thing to do, but while Cosima rested (for the second day in a row), she resolved to do them, if only to distract herself from Cosima's state. It seemed like an ordinary bout of fever, but still, Delphine had never seen Cosima so sick. Cosima had also refused going to a doctor, so that was a whole other thing to worry about..._

_A pair of soft arms encircled Delphine's waist, startling her out of her thoughts._

_"Sorry," Cosima mumbled into Delphine's shoulder, "didn't mean to scare you."_

_Delphine turned around, making Cosima face her, eyes fixated firmly on Cosima's face in search of any discomfort. "You are supposed to be sleeping," Delphine said, finally, when she only found sleepiness._

_"It was boring," Cosima complained. "How come you're not at work?"_

_"I had to stay here and take care of you, ma pauvre petit chou," Delphine said teasingly._

_"You're the puppy," Cosima said back, giggling softly._

_Delphine turned back to the dishes, but Cosima stayed, hands back on Delphine's waist, head nuzzled against Delphine's back. Delphine decided not to say anything, just this once—after all, she'd begun feeling guilty ever since Cosima mentioned work._

.

.

.

Delphine, when looking through her closet, is underwhelmed.

She is used to designer dresses, ones that her manager specifically orders made just for her; ones that cost thousands of dollars to probably only be worn once. Her closet is stock-full of department store dresses, all of them with cheap fabric and no designer signatures. She settles on a black and white one that isn't _too_ bad (but still looks like it came from Target).

Her hair, she struggles with. She isn't used to it being curly anymore—she usually has it straight, because her manager says it makes her look more professional. Now, it's gone back to its curly, messy state, and she isn't sure if she normally keeps it that way. She decides to pull it back in a bun, thinking it to be a safe choice.

A sudden knock on the bathroom door alerts her of Cosima's presence. Delphine is just finishing with her hair, and she offers Cosima a tentative smile as she continues. Cosima hovers in the doorway, half-dressed herself, and watches. She looks so enamored at the sight of Delphine that the blonde feels guilty; she isn't sure if she is supposed to feel so happy to see Cosima that way.

"So, um, which friend?" Cosima finally speaks.

Delphine freezes—she had hoped the two wouldn't finish that conversation.

"I'm not mad," Cosima adds, quickly, like that's enough, like she thinks that is why Delphine is frozen. "I promise I'm not going to be, either. I'm just curious. This morning you seemed so...off. Did something happen with your friend?"

"Something like that." A pause. "I—I wouldn't want to expose my friend's troubles—"

"Or your friend's identity," Cosima finishes.

Delphine gives an apologetic smile. "I wish I could," she lies plainly.

"No, that's okay, I get that—you're, like, a life guru for your friends," Cosima says, giving her a slightly teasing smile before falling serious again. "You don't have to tell me anything. Just...one more question?" she asks tentatively.

"Of course," Delphine says.

"Are _you_ okay?" Cosima asks gently, genuine concern soft in her eyes.

 _No_. "Yes," Delphine says quickly.

"Okay." Cosima doesn't look too convinced, but she does leave the bathroom, presumably to finish getting dressed. Delphine stares at the spot she'd been in for a few seconds before beginning a search through the bathroom for where her makeup must be stashed.

.

.

.

_"Ms. Cormier, a pleasure to see you again," Aldous said, having risen from his spot as soon as he saw Delphine enter. He caught sight of her left hand and said, "Or, is it soon-to-be Mrs?"_

_Delphine quickly removed her engagement ring, flushing. "No, I merely placed it on the wrong finger, is all," she lied, not willing to share that part of her life yet (or, she thought with a sinking feeling, at all). "Shall we sit?"_

_"Of course."_

.

.

.

"Delphine and Cosima are here!"

Delphine tries to smile as the same ponytailed woman from earlier announces their arrival. Cosima, who is holding Delphine's arm (and making Delphine feel strangely at ease), smiles politely at the woman.

"Er, thanks, Alison," she says. "Everyone here already?"

"Of course," Alison says, like the answer should be obvious. "You two are always late."

"Yeah, kind of always late, so, kind of always sorry," Cosima says, grinning sheepishly now.

Alison seemingly forgives their tardiness, because she ushers them in, taking their coats and handing them off to her husband (Donnie, Delphine thinks she calls him) before leading Cosima and Delphine into the living room. There, more unfamiliar faces mill about, making Delphine more uneasy as each second passes.

Cosima catches sight of someone and lets go of Delphine's arm. "Jennifer!" she cries, going straight over to where a frizzy-haired brunette is standing (and leaving Delphine awkwardly standing by herself). However, after assessing the room fully, Delphine catches sight of a table full of drinks; she nearly sighs in relief, quickly going there to pour herself a big glass of wine.

A blonde woman comes up beside Delphine as she's nearly finished half the glass. "Hi, Delphine," she says, eyeing Delphine's glass in thinly veiled amusement. "Cosima called us this morning, trying to find you."

Delphine, wide-eyed when she hears this woman address her, calms down a little. "Ah, yes, sorry," she says, unsure if she should be apologizing on Cosima's behalf. "She was just worried, I assume."

"Right, but," the woman lowers her voice, "where were you?"

"I met a friend," Delphine says slowly, unsure if she is supposed to divulge any information.

The woman smiles knowingly. " _Oh_."

Delphine hears the insinuation of that and is about to defend herself (from what, exactly, she doesn't know), when a man comes up to Delphine's other side, taking Delphine's glass and finishing it himself.

"Chad!" the woman exclaims. "That's so gross!"

The man—a handsome blonde—just grins. "Why? Delphine's a friend."

"She's had her mouth on that, for one," the woman snaps, her jealousy not at all subtle.

"Really? Never would've guessed," Chad says, winking at Delphine.

The woman plasters a fake smile on her face. "You know what? I think Alison might need help with snacks," she says, shooting Delphine a warning look before heading off to find the hostess.

Delphine is unsure what she did, but she vaguely realizes that Chad is still grinning at her, even after the other woman is gone, and that may be the reason why she's gotten a warning. Delphine grabs another glass to fill that one with wine, trying to smile politely to Chad (and sincerly hoping he won't take her glass again).

"Nice dress," Chad says after a few seconds, grin never fading.

"Merci," Delphine says, only trying to be polite.

Chad's grin, it seems, only grows wider. "Man, you're hot when you speak French," he says innocently, as if they're discussing something mundane, like weather. He then takes Delphine's cup _again_ (luckily she hasn't taken a drink from it yet), and walks off with it like nothing's happened.

Delphine feels like her skin is crawling even after he's gone.

For the remainder of the night, she sits on the couch with a bottle of wine. If anyone tries to talk to her, she usually remains distant so they'll eventually leave. Cosima tries to engage her a few times, too (and once, try to take the wine bottle away), but Delphine politely refuses each time (and holds the bottle tighter).

By the time everyone is beginning to leave, Delphine is definitely tipsy—maybe drunk, but tipsy for sure. She is pretty sure she's lying on the couch, staring up at the ceiling (are the lights spinning?), when Cosima comes to find her.

"Delphine," she exclaims, surprised, "are you _drunk_?"

"No," Delphine says, frowning, because she _isn't_. She's so sober that she could stand up without problem and—wait, did she just fall? Why is Cosima trying to help her off the floor? Why is Delphine on the floor? She was just on the couch!

Cosima looks amused, not upset. "I told you that much wine would be bad," she says.

Delphine looks around the spinning room. Cosima is so close, her arms wrapped around Delphine's waist, and Delphine has a sudden urge to kiss her. But she can't, because she is engaged to Aldous, and kissing Cosima would be really bad. Even if the thought is suuuuper tempting...

"Let's get you home," Cosima tells Delphine, but Delphine panics.

"Non, non, je ne peux pas! Mes parents vont être fou parce que je suis censé embrasser les hommes, mais je veux vous embrasser aussi, et vous êtes une femme, et—" Delphine babbles, her French coming out in a rapid stream.

"Delphine, baby, slow down," Cosima laughs. "I still don't speak French."

Delphine vaguely listens, stuck on the pet name _baby_. "Baby," she repeats. "Bébé!"

Cosima looks at Delphine, a wide smile on her pretty face (she is so, so much prettier than Delphine remembers). "Okay, drunkard, you're cute and all, but we do have to get going," she says playfully.

Delphine lets Cosima help her into her coat, and to the front door, but at the doorway she stops her. Maybe it's the drunkeness, or maybe the fact that Cosima gazes up at Delphine expectantly, her glasses a little crooked on her nose and a cute look of confusion on her face, but Delphine surges forward to kiss her.

It's not like the quick time Cosima kissed her earlier—Delphine's senses are so jumbled from the alcohol, and this time she's not frozen in shock, and it just feels more _real_. Cosima's lips are just how Delphine remembers, soft and pliable, and every time Cosima breathes, Delphine can feel the warm air, smooth against her mouth. It's an easy feeling to lose herself in, but a few seconds into the kiss, Delphine quickly yanks away, horrified. Oh, God, she IS drunk. That has to be the reason she—she—

Cosima looks at Delphine in concern. "Delphine?" she begins slowly.

Delphine bursts into tears.

.

.

.

_Delphine carefully entered the room, mindful to not be too loud. She removed her shoes, set down her bag, and quickly changed into more comfortable clothes. As she tried to gently settle down on the bed, however, Cosima woke up anyway._

_"Hey," she mumbled, voice thick with sleep as she turned to face Delphine, "you're here late."_

_"Something came up at work," Delphine said carefully. "You...should be asleep."_

_"I am," came Cosima's sleepy reply. "What happened at work?"_

_"Breakthrough with the antibody test," Delphine lied. "I had to stay longer."_

_"Mmm." Cosima sleepily pushed herself into a sitting position. "Wow, Delphine, that's—that's great. You guys have been hoping for this since two months ago...why didn't you call?"_

_"I thought you might still be sick," Delphine confessed. That, at least, was the truth._

_"It seems these days I always am," Cosima joked, but her face fell ashen as if she remembered something horrible before she quickly tried to smile again. "Um, but, how much farther are you guys taking the testing?"_

_Delphine didn't know what to say—that all had been too big a lie, and she should've quit while she was ahead. "We don't know yet," she said, painfully aware of the guilt eating at her before she changed the subject. "But forget that. You should go to sleep."_

_"Only when you do," Cosima said firmly, but she yawned, clearly tired._

_"Deal," Delphine said, and she settled comfortably on the bed best as she could. Cosima laid back down, snuggling into Delphine's side, in an act to force the blonde to place an arm around her waist. Delphine did so with only a slight hesitation, knowing that she was_ such _an asshole._

.

.

.

Delphine wakes up, half-hoping that the whole "glimpse" thing is a dream, and that she merely had had too much wine while dining with Aldous and is having a delirious, alcohol-induced dream. Her mouth certainly feels like it usually does after a horrible hangover, so that is a good sign...

"Maman! Maman, wake up!"

...well, not a dream.

Delphine sits up, eyeing the dark-haired little girl bouncing on the bed wearily. Aurélie looks too excited for this early in the morning, but then again, kids generally look too excited for everything (Delphine really doesn't spend that much time with kids).

"Aurélie," she says, barely remembering the girl's name, "what is it?"

Aurélie isn't put off by her mother's sleepiness. "Mommy says I get to go play with Oscar and Gemma," she explains. "But she won't let me go until you wake up 'cause Fabian's _crying_."

Delphine rubs her eyes, entirely too worn out. "I'll...be right there," she mumbles.

"Okay, but, _hurry_!" Aurélie warns before she runs out of the room, a little ball of energy flying.

Delphine throws herself back on the mattress and groans.

Ten minutes later, teeth brushed, face washed, and out of last night's dress, Delphine exits the bedroom with a sense of dread (and a horrible, hangover-induced headache). Heading into where the kitchen is, her headache is amplified by the wails of a crying baby.

Aurélie is sitting at the table, legs swinging in distaste as she watches Cosima trying to feed a cranky Fabian, but the little girl lights up when Delphine enters the room. "Mommy, Maman's awake!" she's quick to point out.

Cosima catches sight of Delphine and is instantly relived. "Thank God," she says, holding out Fabian. "Quick, take him before he rips out my dreads."

Delphine staggers forward to take him, and it becomes clear to her why he prefers her; she must have breast-fed him, because as soon as he gets into her arms he's trying to tug at the front of her shirt.

"Fabian, no, Maman's all done with that business," jokes Cosima, holding out a bottle to Delphine. "Sorry to wake you, Delphine, but I've gotta get Aurélie to her play date before Alison throws a hissy."

"O...kay," Delphine says slowly, as Cosima and Aurélie take off running out of the kitchen, leaving Delphine standing there with a baby in her arms, a bottle in hand, and too much discomfort for this early in the morning.

Fabian continues to fuss, so Delphine sits down with him, laying him back slightly and offering the bottle (she's seen movies—and one or two women feeding babies in her family—to get a general idea of what to do). Fabian latches on to the bottle, instantly quieting his cries, which Delphine is grateful for.

In the silence, where the only sound is Fabian's quiet sucking, Delphine lets herself wonder. The kitchen is so unfamiliar, but it seems to match the rest of the house; children's drawings cover the fridge, mismatching dinnerware rests, drying, on the counters, and the dark brown kitchen table looks like it's been there for years. The red curtains that hang over the windows are, however, familiar; they used to belong to Cosima, back when she and Delphine were still in love.

As soon as Fabian finishes his bottle, Delphine stands up with him to look around the house more. The living room is just like Cosima's used to be, with a leather couch, a Persian rug, and a modest TV set. Dark shelves line the walls that remind Delphine of her own old apartment, but instead of books, they are filled with pictures. Mostly baby pictures, of course, but there are a few of Cosima and Delphine, ones where Delphine can't recognize who the smiling blonde woman is; she looks so happy, and so full of life, and is too unlike who she is now.

Fabian reaches for one of the picture frames, shrieking in his baby voice as he grabs at the metal. The picture falls, and Delphine stares at it as it falls; that one is definitely one Delphine doesn't recognize—one where she and Cosima are both wearing wedding dresses.

Fabian makes a loud sound, grasping at Delphine desperately as the metal frame bangs loudly against the fireplace, scaring him. Delphine accommodates the wriggling child in her arms, but she stares at the picture, still, curiously. If there are pictures of her wedding, is there be a video?

(The answer turns out to be _yes_.)

There seem to be a whole bunch of CDs with videos of their lives. A few are labeled "baby" and "birthdays," but Delphine manages to find a few labeled "wedding." She grabs the first and sticks it into the DVD player, settling on the couch with Fabian in her arms to watch.

The shaky camera opened on a half-asleep Cosima.

"Wake up, Cosima," said a voice from behind the camera, which Delphine identifies as her own.

Cosima blearily opened her eyes, but a smile spread across her face when she saw who was there. "Hey," she said softly. "I thought you'd be gone by now. Bad luck to see the bride before the wedding and all."

"I'm not missing you like this," was the reply.

Cosima sat up and reached for her glasses, smiling. "You don't want to miss me when I'm half-asleep, have awful sex hair, and a need to pee? I'm starting to think you love me, Ms. Cormier," she teased.

Delphine's voice was soft as she answered. "I do."

"Good, 'cause if you didn't, that'd be a pretty big deal breaker for not marrying you," Cosima joked.

The camera shook with a laugh. "Cheeky," murmured Delphine.

Cosima only reached for Delphine's waist, tugging her in close, and making the camera almost fall on the bed. "And I love you too," Cosima added. "You know, if that wasn't painfully obvious."

(The DVD then skips ahead to the actual ceremony.)

The camera wasn't shaking this time.

"Donnie, keep the camera still," a fussing Alison hissed anyway. "Now point it!"

The camera panned to Cosima, who was without her glasses. Her dress was simple, but a white wedding dress all the same (unlike anything she said she would wear). She waved at the camera, but the scene was jerked sideways as Alison shrieked, "Not _there_ , Donnie!"

The camera focused on Delphine, who was walking down the aisle. Her face was veiled, so Delphine can't see how she looks (she suspects she must look happy, though). The camera continued to follow her until Delphine reached the altar. There, Cosima grabbed her bride's hands right away, giving her usual wide grin.

It's enough to make Delphine teary, just a bit. _They could have had that,_ she thinks as she looks away from the TV to gaze at Fabian, who is oblivious and is chewing on one of the CD cases. _They almost did._

.

.

.

_"You need to go to the doctor," Delphine said firmly._

_Cosima blinked back, once, twice. "Okay."_

_Delphine's stern demeanor faltered slightly._ Okay? _She had been expecting a fuss, half-hearted attempts on Cosima's part to show she's feeling fine, or even a change in the subject, but not_ okay.

_"I have conditions though," Cosima added._

_Delphine sighed. "Cosima, you're the sick one. You can't have conditions."_

_"I have conditions," Cosima repeated. "You buy me ice cream—"_

_"I am_ not _making you sicker—"_

_"—and you talk to me," Cosima finished._

_That quieted Delphine. "I—what do you mean?" she asked._

_Cosima only stared back, unwavering. "Please talk to me?" she prompted softly._

.

.

.

An hour after she's done watching tapes, and Fabian's drifting to sleep in Delphine's arms, the front door opens. Cosima enters quietly, eyes flickering to the TV (Delphine had switched it to the news out of sheer boredom), then to Fabian.

"I'll take him to bed," she offers.

Delphine gratefully passes on the child. "Thank you."

But ten minutes later, Cosima's back, and she sits down right next to Delphine. "Alison said that she'll take Aurélie to karate with Oscar and Gemma," she says. "We agreed I'll pick them up." 

"Okay." Delphine tries to pay attention the news, but she's failing; she can't resist peeking at Cosima, as if staring might make her more real. This is a _glimpse_. Whatever she has with Cosima isn't staying. So Delphine resolves not to let herself hope. (It isn't working.)

Cosima sighs like she realizes this. "Delphine, something's wrong," she blurts out, then backtracks, "I mean...right? Something's going on with you? I don't know if it has to do with your friend you met, but you're...you're acting weird. You love Alison's dinner parties, and then yesterday you just got drunk and weepy. Usually, you know, that's me." (She smiles at the last part, though, so it must be a joke.)

"I'm sorry," Delphine says, but she isn't sure why she should apologize; it's not like she asked for this glimpse into this life, and frankly, she's tired of all the wrong things she's done. She wants to yell she doesn't know who Alison is, or defend her weird situation, but she doesn't. Instead, she says, "I have just been going through something."

"You can talk to me, you know," Cosima points out. "I mean, what else do you marry someone for if not for unloading your shit?" She's playful, but Delphine can tell Cosima is genuinely concerned.

"I am fine, Cosima, but thank you," Delphine says politely.

Cosima accepts that, at least for now. "Okay, but, you'll tell me eventually," she says, "right?"

"Of course," Delphine says, about to finish with something stupid like _ma chérie_  before she realizes that's a bad idea, so she quickly banishes the thought. "Um, do you want to change the channel?"

" _Yes_ ," Cosima is quick to reply, and she snatches the remote from Delphine's hand.

Delphine remembers this. The way Cosima would pick the movies—often terrible sci-fi picks—which Delphine would watch just so Cosima would stop talking during Delphine's own movie picks. Then, as the beginning credits of a sci-fi movie starts (clearly the past years haven't changed Cosima's bad taste in movies), Cosima wraps her arms around Delphine's waist, her head instantly resting on the blonde's shoulder.

Delphine feels herself stiffen for a split second before her body relaxes. This, too, is familiar, but in the worst way; it makes Delphine feel so guilty, because she knows she could've had this—but while she does miss it, she knows she wouldn't do this over again. Cosima is better off without her. Delphine is happy with her life. They're just not...compatible.

"I can feel you thinking," Cosima whispers.

Delphine laughs uneasily. "I'm just thinking that this movie is terrible," she half-lies.

"Yeah, it is," Cosima chuckles. "But, like, not the worst way to spend our time, right?"

Delphine is quiet for a while before she answers, "Non, I guess not."

"And they say romance is dead," Cosima jokes, snuggling more into Delphine's side. They sit in silence and continue watching, but as a horde of aliens begin to storm a neighborhood, Cosima's nose wrinkles in distaste. "Okay, yeah, this is horrible."

"Like all your movie picks," Delphine can't help but tease, feeling much too comfortable like this, with Cosima's head on her shoulder and two arms loosely tucked around her waist. Even if she knows she shouldn't let this glimpse...whatever it is...consume her, she figures she ought to enjoy it, at least a little.

"Ouch," Cosima says playfully. "You're meaner now that I married you."

Delphine doesn't know what to say to that, but she settles for, "So you...don't regret it?" (There's an unsaid " _like I would have_ " at the end, but that's completely irrelevant.)

"Are you kidding? Every day," Cosima teases, but as Delphine gives a halfhearted smile and nervously wrings her fingers, Cosima straightens up to stare at the blonde, arms letting go of Delphine's waist. "Wait...Delphine, are you, like, having _doubts_?"

Delphine tries to change the subject. "I think the aliens are multiplying," she says quickly.

"Delphiiiiiiine," Cosima says, voice getting higher teasingly. "You're having doubts!"

Delphine huffs, "Shouldn't you be more comforting than this?"

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry," Cosima says, her arms going back around Delphine's waist as she attempts to get the blonde to look at her. "You know I love you. Even when you get mad and yell in French so I never understand what you're saying. And even when you teach the kids French and I never understand when Aurélie asks for stuff lately."

Delphine can't help but smile a little. "Have you really not picked up French yet?"

"And I love you even when you make fun of me, like now," Cosima says, sticking out her tongue playfully before growing serious. "You know I'd don't regret getting married to you, right? I never would."

Delphine stares at Cosima for a while, clearly seeing how serious the other woman is. Delphine has so many regrets when it comes to her past love with Cosima, and the biggest has always been that Delphine accepted Cosima's proposal in the first place. Now, with Cosima staring at her openly, Delphine feels like the biggest regret is not marrying her in the first place.

But Delphine doesn't voice any of that. Instead, she gives Cosima a weak smile and gets off the couch without a word, feeling the guilt in her stomach, worse than it had ever been when things began to go wrong with Cosima.

.

.

.

_"You got a job offer?" Cosima repeated._

_"It's not an offer. Not yet," Delphine quickly corrected. "But...things could go that way, yes."_

_Cosima laughed bitterly. "Wow, okay," she said. "And were you even going to tell me about this? Any of this at all? Or were you going to continue meeting up with strange guys who are clearly into you while not wearing your engagement ring? Because either way, it doesn't sound great."_

_"I didn't want to tell you because I don't even know what I'm doing," Delphine snapped. "I'm—I'm just trying something. I want to do this for me, to try to figure things out for_ me. _Shouldn't you be happier for me?"_

_"But what about the ring?" Cosima asked, incredulous. "Were you going to go around to a new job letting everyone think you were single? When we got married, would you not wear that ring either?"_

_Delphine sighed, voice quieter now. "I just didn't want to share that part of my life yet—"_

_"I don't think you would, ever," Cosima cut her off bitterly. "Are you ashamed of me?"_

_"Non, of course not," Delphine said, quickly taking Cosima's face into her hands pleadingly. "Cosima, ma chérie, je t'aime—"_

_Cosima stepped out of Delphine's reach. "Yeah?" she said, her voice hollow. "Well, it doesn't feel like it."_

_"Cosima," Delphine tried, "I've done nothing wrong. I have not wronged you."_

_Cosima shook her head, eyes shutting briefly. "Please don't try and make this worse," she said._

_"But it's true," Delphine said, dejectedly. "You know I—"_

_"Delphine, you're right, okay?" Cosima said, meeting Delphine's eyes briefly before she turned away completely. "You haven't done anything wrong." But she turned and left their room anyway, and seconds later, the front door slammed shut._

_Delphine closed her eyes and let the first tear slide down her cheek.  
._

_._

_._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to say thank you to the following people who commented:  
> A  
> Ophy   
> anon   
> Anonyme   
> LittleHaven  
> tals_reef   
> You guys are awesome! (And, of course, thank you to all those who left kudos - and those who even bothered to read this - because it means so much to me!)


	4. To Be Felt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **By the grace of Missy Elliot's music, this chapter is finally here!!! Sorry it's so short (and so late!!!), but I have been very busy with academic-related things that are crucial to my career...okay in reality I started watching like five different TV shows don't judge me.**
> 
> **Disclaimer: I don't own Orphan Black.**

"So, back to work again," Cosima tells Delphine over orange juice and scrambled eggs, her brilliant smile showing just how eager she is to discuss the matter. "How are you feeling?"

Delphine swallows a mouthful of eggs that have turned to lead in her mouth, coughing into a napkin before taking a long drink of juice. "I'm sorry?" she asks, dumbfounded. It _is_ Monday, which would often be a normal work day, but Delphine's become accustomed to working such odd hours in real life that she's forgotten schedules.

"Work," Cosima repeats, "you know, that foreign place you haven't been at for a week?"

"A week?" Delphine repeats.

Cosima raises her eyebrows questioningly. "Yeah..."

"It, ah, feels like longer," Delphine quickly blurts out, pretending she knows what's going on (she doesn't).

"Is that supposed to mean something?" Cosima asks, faking a gasp.

Aurélie giggles through a mouthful of eggs. "She's kidding, Mommy!" she cries.

"Oh, good," Cosima says, placing a hand on her chest (in a theatrical, exaggerated way for her daughter's benefit). "Seriously, though, you're excited right? Scott's been talking off my ear about how weird it is without you there. He was disappointed when he heard you'd be going in today at ten instead of seven; I'm pretty sure he idolizes you."

Delphine discreetly checks her watch; it's a quarter past eight. "Yes, um, I miss him too," she says (she has no idea who _Scott_ is). "Don't you...I mean, do you..." She wants to ask if Cosima works, but it seems rude to ask.

"Huh?" Cosima's mouth is already halfway to her glass of juice.

"Your work," Delphine begins anew, "is it...ehm..."

"A pain in the...side?" Cosima says, glancing at Aurélie from the corner of her eye. "Yeah, obvs, but I'll be fine to go in today. You go make crazy science and have fun, okay?"

Delphine tries to smile reassuringly as Cosima kisses her cheek and rises from the table. Aurélie shoves the last of her eggs in her mouth and hops down from her chair, taking her plate to the sink.

"Mommy, I get to go to Auntie Alison's, right?" Aurélie asks.

"That's right, squirt, you get to have fun with Oscar and Gemma while your boring mothers go to work," Cosima says, winking at the child as she rinses off her dish and Aurélie's. "But we'll go for ice cream afterwards. How does that sound?"

"Perfect!" Aurélie declares, beaming.

"Glad to hear it! Now go and pack your toys," Cosima says. "Maman's going to drop you and Fabian off on her way to work, so don't get stuck in your room playing all morning, okay?"

"Okay," Aurélie sighs, clearly disappointed, but the thought of playing with Oscar and Gemma overrides her thoughts, and a second later she's grinning and bouncing out of the room with a renewed purpose.

Delphine takes her dish to the sink, too, but treads a lot more carefully than Aurélie. "So, when do you go in, again?" she asks nonchalantly as she scrubs at the soapy plate.

Cosima is setting the other dried dishes into the cabinets when she answers, "Oh, nine, remember?"

"It is nearly eight thirty," Delphine points out, smiling despite herself; Cosima really IS always late.

"It is?" Cosima groans. "Thank you, personal clock." She steals another kiss, this time on the corner of Delphine's mouth, before she, too, rushes out of the room. "Don't forget Fabian's diapers!" she yells over her shoulder.

...which leaves Delphine to a new reality: childcare.

Cosima leaves ten minutes later, and Delphine is left with the kids. Aurélie is easy to deal with, because she just packs her toys and is ready in minutes. Fabian is another matter; Delphine has to change his diaper (the disgust she shows is minimal, for his sake, but her skin is crawling), then get him a change of clothes, and hunt for all the stuff he needs (like bottles, diapers, wipes, and so much more).

To top it all off, Fabian cries way too hard when Delphine places him into Alison's arms, and Aurélie just runs inside Alison's house without as much of a greeting to the woman. Delphine has to awkwardly apologize and head to her mystery lab a few minutes later (which she would not have been able to find had Cosima not mentioned its name briefly).

Work is something else entirely. The company, Topside, seems nice enough; a few people even greet Delphine as she walks in. There is just one problem: Delphine has no idea what she works with. Or what she does. Or where her lab must be...

"Delphine!"

Delphine turns around, ready to offer another polite hello (it would be the third this morning). "Hello," she says courteously to a man who looks close to her own age, with brown hair and glasses, and a nametag that reads "Scott." So _he_ is the one Cosima mentioned...

"I thought it was you," Scott says, beaming. "How was the time off?"

"It was nice," Delphine lies, smile so fake it's a wonder Scott's stays real. "How did you fare here?" she asks as an afterthought, because she's gathered that Scott must work with her.

"I'll show you," Scott says, lighting up. "Let's go to the lab."

Delphine can only follow.  
.

.

.

 

_"You came back." It was not a question. It was a quiet observation._

_Cosima shrugged, not looking away from the TV. "I wasn't going to leave," she said, but there was a tone of despair to her voice, as if she was willing for it not to break._

_Delphine carefully sat down. "Are you mad I want to purse this profession?" she asked softly._

_"No," Cosima replied, but then she paused. "Maybe. Look, that doesn't matter. It's your career, it's your life, and I get that. I don't have a right to be mad about that."_

_"That is true," Delphine agreed, "but you do have a right to be angry. I should not have lied."_

_Cosima nodded, accepting the apology. "So, are you going to take the job?" she asked tightly._

_"I haven't had an offer—"_

_"But say you get one," Cosima cut her off, more abrupt than needed. "Would you?"_

_Delphine sighed. "I might," she admitted, "c'est bon? I like what Dyad is offering. It is stability. I may be a paid intern, but you see how poorly I am paid. This could be a chance to finally be able to contribute more for us."_

_"I can handle the bills even when you're paid that little," Cosima argued. "You can still find a job in your field, and your internship can help you do that, even if it's been a few months."_

_"But what about the wedding, Cosima?" Delphine exploded in frustration. "You cannot afford it on your own, and my parents are certainly not going to help us. I cannot expect you to pay for it all, and we will be in debt if we do not pay—"_

_"My parents can help. You don't have to do this," Cosima persisted._

_"Merde, Cosima, I_ want _to do this," Delphine maintained firmly. "Do you not understand that? I do not like the direction my life is going at all, and I would like to change it!"_

_"At all," Cosima echoed, hurt. "Wow, okay."_

_Delphine sighed, her hand going to her face tiredly. "I did not mean it like that."_

_"I'm sure you didn't," Cosima muttered before she stood up. "I'm going to go get ready for work."_

_"Already?" Delphine said, surprised, but Cosima had already left._  
.

.

.

 

Delphine had forgotten how much she loves immunology.

"This is impressive, Scott," she marvels as she looks over the subject's blood tests. "This could be quite the breakthrough for battling viruses in the human body."

"Well, I'd hope so, because we've only been working towards it for seven years," Scott jokes, though his tone is more sheepish than anything. "So how was, uh, Alison's party? Cosima invited me on our game night, but Denise had an appointment, so I couldn't go."

"Uneventful," Delphine says distractedly, mostly still amazed by the results they're looking at. "Do we have more tests?"

Scott looks unused to Delphine's enthusiasm. "Uh, yeah, we ran a few when you took time off," he says, but not without hesitation, like he's unsure if Delphine is faking her astonishment. "I'll go get them."

Delphine nods and lets him go, still eager. While the whole being-married-to-Cosima-with-kids is still terrifying (and really, really _not_ what Delphine thinks she wants), the job is something Delphine can admit she misses; science was always her first love as a young child, and it's stuck with her.

Delphine begins to look around the lab once Scott is gone, which she had not been able to do while he was there; he expects her to recognize the place, when she does not. She's gathered that she, Scott, and a few others share the lab, but they each have their own desks and little areas taped off that they keep to separate the spaces. 

Delphine's desk is orderly, as she always keeps her things, but not without clutter either; there are a few scribbled pictures that must be her daughter's work, along with a few pictures of her, well, _family_ mixed up in papers and folders. There is even a framed picture of Cosima holding a newborn Fabian in her arms, which Delphine lets her fingers linger on; it's a sweet sight Delphine almost wishes she had been there for.

(Which is not a thought she should be having.)

She's been trying hard to make the best of this situation. She just needs to wait out this glimpse of a life that isn't hers, and then she can get back to her REAL life. One where Aldous is waiting for her. One where Cosima is not involved in Delphine's life. One where everything is as it should be.

But Delphine looks back at the pictures. _Would this have been so bad?_  
.

.

.

_"I'd like to offer you a job."_

_Delphine's eyes widened, and she coughed into her wine in an attempt to swallow too quickly. "I'm sorry?" she said, resting a ringless hand to her chest._

_Aldous gave a small smile. "You're beautiful, Delphine," he said softly, gazing at her, eyes strong with admiration. "I have no doubt you would be the most popular model at my company. You have the potential to become a fashion icon."_

_Delphine could only stare back, stunned. "I—Aldous, that is—"_

_"Just think about it," Aldous continued, pressing his fingertips together calmly. "You, on the cover of Time magazine. Your face could inspire fashion revolutions. You could leave an impression on some of the richest people in the world."_

_"It's—it's a lot to think about," Delphine said honestly. This is what she wanted after all: a job offer. But as she thought about it, it made her uneasy. The life of a model was hard. Her looks could only take her so far, and being a model would not involve any science or logic, both of which Delphine imagined working with during her career._

_"But hopefully not too much," Aldous said, resting his hands on the table casually, as if one of his hands had not landed a little too close to Delphine's. "You would have complete control over your job. You can pick your work time, your schedule...and perhaps we could get to collaborate more on your work." His eyes lingered on Delphine's face obviously, and Delphine carefully moved her hand away._

_"The prospect is definitely very, ehm, tempting," Delphine pronounced carefully. "But if it is alright...I'd like to take a few days, to think about it?"_

_Aldous nodded. "Take all the time you need," he assured her, and he stood carefully, giving her that same small smile he was prone to giving, one that had an unspoken secretiveness to it, like he knew something everyone else didn't._  
.

.

.

Delphine feels extremely out of place against the bright red polyester cushion.

She glances nervously at Cosima, who is sitting across from her, and then at Aurélie next to Cosima. Fabian is seated at a high chair next to Delphine's, banging his hands on his chair excitedly, and mumbling nonsense words, as Aurélie keeps feeding him spoonfuls of her ice cream (because Aurélie had insisted when Cosima tried to feed Fabian herself).

Cosima sends Delphine funny stares ever so often, probably wondering why Delphine keeps fidgeting. Aurélie keeps giving Delphine curious looks, too, but more conspicuous ones; finally, the little girl speaks.

"Maman, you're acting weird," Aurélie remarks.

Cosima pokes her spoon into her melting chocolate ice cream. "Aurélie," she scolds.

Aurélie frowns, defensive. "It's _true_ ," she says hotly, spooning another mouthful of her chocolate ice cream into Fabian's mouth, staring at Cosima defiantly.

"Maman's just gone back to work," Cosima argues. "She's adapting."

Aurélie sinks in her seat, still sulking.

Delphine clears her throat. "I'm...sorry," she offers slowly, more to Aurélie than Cosima, because Aurélie is right; Delphine is acting weird. Mostly out of the uncomfortableness of spending time with a family she does not know, but also because she really doesn't eat ice cream anymore, and her vanilla ice cream is melting in her cup and she doesn't know what to do.

Aurélie looks at Delphine expectantly, waiting for more, and Delphine digresses.

"How was your work, Cosima?" she tries, patiently, swirling the ice cream in her cup and even daring to taste a spoonful. The flavor hits her hard, strong and sweet and so unlike her usual diet, and she tentatively eats some more.

"Eh, you know how it goes," Cosima says, waving her ring-covered fingers in a blasé manner. "I show up late, Helena stares me down too hard, and the stick up Rachel's butt gets lodged even further..."

Delphine looks up, mouth agape. "Rachel...Rachel _Duncan_?" she blurts out.

"Yeah, who else?" Cosima says, amused at Delphine's reaction, before she takes a big spoonful of her ice cream, effectively dismissing the subject. "Scott said you were kinda out of it at work. Is everything okay?"

Delphine isn't listening; she's too busy thinking about Rachel Duncan. Leekie's niece works as the head of an institute she isn't familiar with, but she had applied to once; Cosima must work there instead. Delphine wonders if it would be right to ask what Cosima's job is, and though she automatically knows the answer, she lets herself dream this reality isn't as confusing as it is.

" _Maman_ ," Aurélie practically yells, "Mommy's talking to youuuu!"

"Aurélie," Cosima scolds again. "Inside voice."

Aurélie sinks down in her seat, pouting mostly out of spite. "It's not _my_ fault she's not listening," she whines. "Maman's not being a coo-op-e-ra-tife listener."

"Cooperative," Cosima corrects, but there's a pride in her voice after she hears Aurélie's attempt. "Is that a word you learned in school?"

"No, it's a word Auntie Allison uses," Aurélie states, proud she knows the fact before her mothers do. "She says, 'Children, if you talk when someone else is talking, then you're not being a coo-op-e-ra-tife listener'. Oscar always talks when me and Gemma try 'cause he's _mean_."

"Ohhh," Cosima says, knowingly, like she's suspected so all along. "Good thing _you're_ a cooperative listener, then, huh?"

"Uh-huh," Aurélie says proudly.

For a minute, there's a lull in conversation, where Aurélie contines eating and Cosima keeps sending Delphine worried little glances that Delphine pretends not to notice. The silence is broken when Fabian starts to fuss, reaching out for Delphine and whining.

"Uh-oh, Fabian's ready to go," Cosima says. "Aurélie, are you done?"

Aurélie nods, scooping up the last sugary spoonful of her ice cream cup. "Yeah," she says, mouth full.

"Delphine, can you get the baby? I'll pick up the cups," Cosima asks, already busying herself with the task.

Delphine picks up Fabian, gingerly standing up with him and exiting the booth. Aurélie follows, nearly bouncing on her heels, as Cosima comes after her, gathering their trash and tossing it out.

"Can we watch a movie when we get home?" Aurélie asks as they exit the ice cream parlor, entirely too excited and nearly running to the car in her haste.

Cosima laughs heartily. "We can never give you sugar, can we?" she teases. "You're hyper!"

"That's a yes!" Aurélie declares, yanking on the locked car door. "Hurry up, Mommy!"

Cosima playfully rolls her eyes, meeting Delphine's amused look and winking. "Movie night?" she asks.

Delphine allows a small smile. "Only if it's not sci-fi."

"Hey, my sci-fi picks are _amazing_...." Cosima feigns hurt, but there's a megawatt smile on her face. She swats Delphine's arm playfully as Delphine goes to put Fabian in his car seat, and Delphine feels her heart skip a beat.   
.

.

.

_Delphine didn't know how to start the conversation about her job offer. She didn't know if she even wanted to have that conversation...it was a touchy subject lately, and she did not like to fight with Cosima. She decided to tread lightly, so she pushed the thought away for now._

_"Cosima? I'm home," Delphine called as she entered their flat, setting down her bag and shrugging off her coat._

_Cosima was seated at the kitchen table, typing on her computer, but she looked up, a careful look in her eyes, when she heard Delphine enter. "Hey," she said quietly._

_Delphine bit her lip. "Hi," she echoed the greeting just as quietly._

_Cosima closed her computer. "You're right," she declared, diving right into the conversation Delphine wanted to avoid. "You're right about everything. This job could be everything you've wanted. And I know that just because we're engaged, it doesn't mean that you have to let everyone in the world know it. I'm just...I'm being selfish. And an asshole. You can be as angry as you want to me, but I have no right to be angry with you. I'm sorry."_

_Delphine nodded, accepting the apology. "Thank you," she said._

_"Plus," Cosima added, "it's going to be totally cool to have a wife who is a model. The guys at the office are going to be super jealous." She gave Delphine a cheeky—albeit hesitant—grin._

_Delphine broke into a smile herself; she couldn't help it. "You, mon amour, are such a brat," she chided lovingly, and she pulled Cosima up into a tight embrace, brushing her lips over Cosima's._

_Cosima smiled, wider. "I love you," she whispered, pressing a firm kiss to Delphine's lips._

_"I love you too," Delphine echoed the sentiment. "And, um...I got the offer."_

_"The job offer?" Cosima asked, her voice sounding even more excited._

_"Yes." Delphine pulled back slightly, eyes fixed on Cosima hesitantly, like she was afraid Cosima would change her mind now. "And I'm thinking of taking it."_

_"You should," Cosima said immediately. "And I can get to brag about it."_

_Delphine knew that Cosima wasn't completely over it, and that her hurt wasn't going to disappear overnight, but Delphine was extremely grateful that she was trying._  
.

.

.

It's past midnight when Delphine hears the small voice sniffle, "Maman?"

Delphine opens her eyes sleepily, fearing that somehow she's drifted too close to Cosima's side of the bed (it just doesn't feel right, sleeping next to her again). But that was not what woke her; instead, she sees the fearful little girl standing by the bed, clutching a teddy bear in her hands, eyes full with unshed tears.

"Aurélie?" Delphine asks dumbly, still half-asleep, propping herself up on her elbows to address her daughter.

"I had a nightmare," Aurélie whispers, wiping at her eyes shakily.

"Oh." Delphine rubs her eyes, trying to wake herself up, but can't; she doesn't know what to do either. "Okay, well...do you want to sleep here?" she offers.

Aurélie nods vigorously, and Delphine drops her head back on her pillow as Aurélie climbs over her and into the small space that separates Delphine from Cosima. Aurélie settles with her arms around Delphine's waist, and Delphine sleepily brushes back the girl's unruly hair; it's soaked with sweat, and the girl can't stop shivering.

"Maman?" Aurélie whispers, voice hesitant and afraid.

"Mmm?" Delphine hums, nearly falling back asleep.

"Do you still love us?"

Delphine opens her eyes again. "What?"

"Do you love us?" Aurélie repeats, voice unwavering now, her grip on Delphine's waist only tightening.

Delphine looks at the little girl, and even in the darkness, she knows that Aurélie is looking back expectantly. "Yes," she says, finally, because she knows what Aurélie needs to hear. "O-of course."

Aurélie buries her face into Delphine's shoulder, tears finally shedding. As small, strangled sobs echo through the room, Cosima rolls over, sleepily opening her own eyes in confusion when she feels the smaller body in the bed with them.

"What's going on?" she asks, concerned.

"Aurélie had a nightmare," Delphine answers, rubbing the little girl's back awkwardly. Kids are one thing. _Crying_ kids are another, and she doesn't know what to do.

Cosima leans down and kisses Aurélie's head. "Aw, kid," she mutters sadly, her voice thick with sleep but affectionate nonetheless. "You're okay. You're okay." She rubs Aurélie's arms affectionately, much more soothingly, and Aurélie lets go of Delphine to latch on to Cosima.

For a minute there is silence, and then Aurélie sniffles, voice meek, "Can I have cereal?"

Cosima laughs a little, both relieved and amused. "Baby, it's past midnight, it's not good for you to eat so late," she objects gently. "How about some chocolate milk?"

Aurélie nods, just a little, and that's how Delphine finds herself sitting at the kitchen table in near darkness, drinking overly-sweet chocolate milk, just after midnight. Aurélie drinks hers through a straw, and for a while all that sounds is the constant sucking of her milk. Cosima rests her hands on Delphine's, squeezing slightly, and Delphine catches her eye; she's getting used to these little signs of affection.

"You have a milk mustache, Mommy," Aurélie suddenly giggles.

Cosima makes an exaggerated face of horror. "I _do_?"

"Yes!" Aurélie giggles harder.

Delphine laughs, too; the little girl's laughter is infectious, and a warm, blissful feeling blooms in Delphine's chest. Even after Cosima takes Aurélie back to her bed, even after they go back to sleep, Cosima's arms wrapped around Delphine's waist, the feeling stays.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **I wanted to write out the names of everyone who commented but I am lazy so I'll get to that later. Thank you for reading this thing, I guess?**


	5. To Be Torn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **To start off, I'd like to give a shoutout to delphemeral—thank you for the tumblr shoutout for this story! I'm still not very good at using tumblr haha, but if you guys ever want to message me on there or send prompts to me, my username is bs13thebarbie.**
> 
>  
> 
> **Sorry for the ridiculously long wait for this chapter. I accidentally deleted this chapter and had to rewrite it (and sadly, Missy Elliot could not help me this time).**

At first, Delphine isn't sure what woke her.

The room is quiet, and dark, and the only sounds Delphine hears are Cosima's soft breaths. Delphine notices, half-awake, that Cosima's arm is draped over her again, but she's so used to it that she doesn't even tense up when she realizes it. Delphine is just shutting her eyes again—it's her day off today, alright, she's going to sleep in—when she hears someone shuffling down the hall.

At once, Delphine freezes at the unfamiliar sound. If Aurélie were up, then everyone would know; she would be running and yelling for her mothers to be up. Delphine urgently pushes at Cosima's arm, whispering her wife's name repeatedly before Cosima stirs.

"Mmm," Cosima mumbles, shifting so her arm falls off Delphine's waist. "It's too early."

Delphine doesn't wait to relay her fears. "Cosima, someone's in the house," she whispers worriedly.

Cosima cracks open an eye. "Besides us?"

"Yes, besides us."

"And Aurélie?"

" _And_ Aurélie."

Cosima sits up, blindly grasping for her glasses. "Any chance Fabian started walking?"

" _Cosima_." Delphine must look fearful, because at once, Cosima sobers up.

"I'll go check," Cosima says, pushing the blanket back a little as if preparing to leave. "You wait here."

Delphine hesitates. "But I can't just—"

Then Fabian starts to cry.

Delphine doesn't bother waiting for Cosima then; she jumps out of bed herself, rushing to exit the room (with Cosima falling out of bed behind her, if the thud that sounds is any indication). All Delphine thinks about is Fabian; she's grown fond of the baby boy, and can't help but worry whenever he cries (especially if there might be someone in the house).

Delphine bangs open the door of Fabian's nursery, worry turning her blood to ice, coursing throughout her whole body; all she can think is _no, no, no_ —

"It's about _time_."

Delphine stops, abruptly, at the doorway. Of all the scenarios running through her head—the horrible, gut-wrenching scenarios—she did not expect Alison Hendrix pattering about Fabian's nursery, brushing dust off of drawers and fully opening the blinds.

Cosima nearly crashes into Delphine as she comes running in next. " _Alison_?" she says, voicing both the surprise and shock Delphine is feeling as well.

"I hope you don't mind that I let myself in," Alison says, not apologetic at all as she hands Fabian off to a bewildered Delphine and continues on opening the blinds and dusting off any surface she sees. "You two surely needed the wake-up call."

"So you broke in," Cosima deadpans.

Alison huffs, clearly exasperated that her effort at breaking into her neighbors' home is not being praised. "You keep hiding your spare key under the mat. It's not a safe place to keep it, and I've told you that a million times! Well," she pauses, "twenty-seven, realistically, but who's counting?"

"No one sane, apparently," Cosima mutters under her breath before addressing Alison again. "So why, exactly, did you need to give us a wake-up call? It's still six in the morning."

Alison sighs, shaking her head. "You two are so forgetful," she states, plainly. "It's the first day back at school for Aurélie. She goes in at eight sharp, remember? If you would take my advice and set up a calendar with your schedule on it, then you would know."

"I think we could've managed just fine to get her to school if we slept in another hour," Cosima mumbles, reaching over and plucking Fabian out of Delphine's arms. "Thank you, Alison, for ruining Monday more than usual," she calls over her shoulder as she walks out of the nursery, presumably to start making coffee.

"Just hide the spare key _better_ , Cosima, is all I'm saying!" Alison replies, before she turns back to Delphine. "You appreciate it, right?"

"...of course," Delphine lies, tiredly brushing back her unkempt hair.

Alison smiles, widely, at that. "Oh, good," she says happily. "I guess I'll let myself out now; Donnie, bless him, is awful at dressing the kids. I'll see you at lunch, right?"

Delphine's mouth falls open. "I—yes, of course," she stammers, unsure if that's a thing—lunch with Alison, anyway. Is that something she does on the regular? Lunch with her neighbor? (And should she be more excited?)

"Great! I'll text the girls," Alison chirps, exiting the room as easily as she'd entered.

Delphine lingers too much on those words... _the girls_. What does that mean? Does she have to spend lunch with _other_ neighbors besides Alison? (Do they break into her house, too?)

"Delphine!" comes a distant shout, and Delphine shakes off the feeling and exits the nursery herself, going into the kitchen where Cosima is.

"Yes?" Delphine hovers by the doorway, taking in the sight; Cosima is locking the door behind Alison, Fabian on her hip, as the sound of boiling water scores the scene.

Cosima turns around, noticeably relieved, but then gives a sheepish smile. "Can you turn off the water? It's spilling," she says sweetly.

Delphine bites back a laugh. Cosima's attempts at being charming have not ceased since they got married, it seems. _Still_ , Delphine marvels as she turns off the water, _it's amazing that they still manage to work_. Delphine sets to work fixing up coffee as soon as she turns off the burner; since she's awake, she's edgy and already thinking about the day ahead.

If Aurélie goes back to school today now that winter break is done, she'll have to be up by seven, at least, if she expects to go in at eight. Cosima goes in early, at seven, so she'll have to get going soon...and then Delphine pauses, startled, at how easily these routines have set in if she's thinking about this, half-asleep and on edge.

Delphine takes a quick gulp of her coffee to distract herself from the thought. "Should you not be getting ready?" she asks Cosima, who has made herself comfortable at the table, Fabian on her lap, as she sips coffee.

"I go in at eight. I'm good," Cosima says lazily, dropping a kiss on Fabian's head.

Delphine frowns. "Non, that can't be right. You go in at seven."

"No, I only go in at seven on Mon— _shit_. Sorry, Fabian, Mommy's got a dirty mouth!" Cosima nearly jumps off the kitchen chair in her haste to hand Fabian off to Delphine, with that same sheepish smile on her face forming a second later. "Have I mentioned how much I love you?"

 _Yes, and it makes Delphine's heart skip a beat every time it comes up_. "Not lately," Delphine jokes, taking Fabian in her arms.

"Then I love you more than words can express, obvs." Cosima grins widely, eyeteeth showing and tongue poking out between her teeth.

Delphine chuckles. " _Cheeky_ ," she murmurs, and it's dangerous how fond her tone is, because Cosima just lights up further and leans in for a kiss—a chaste, ordinary kiss that no one would doubt a woman in love would give—and it's worrying. Because Delphine _likes_ kissing Cosima. It's a very big problem. In fact, she can't resist kissing back—it's that bad.

And it makes her feel extremely _guilty_. Is that the point of this glimpse? To show her that she is an asshole? Delphine knows that already—she's the one who left, after all.

.

.

.

_It started small._

_Delphine got her first assignment in L.A. a few days after signing with Leekie. Cosima went with her, despite Delphine's insistence that it wasn't necessary. It wasn't that Delphine was ashamed—she wasn't. She just hadn't shared that part of her life yet. It wasn't necessary for the job, was it? Her private life was just that—private. No one needed to know._

_(Sometimes she felt guilty, but that had nothing to do with it.)_

_Cosima didn't go to the shoot, though. She went sightseeing ("Los Angeles is the tourist town, Delphine! Hollywood's, like, an hour away"), and then returned to the hotel room late, and never complained once. Having Cosima around actually made Delphine feel better; she couldn't imagine how it would've gone if Cosima had not been there after all. Delphine liked the silent support. It was actually nice._

_But, of course, it didn't end small._

.

.

.

"I put everything in, I think," Delphine assures Aurélie, who stands before Delphine dressed and with her backpack on her shoulders. However, Aurélie looks skeptical.

"Are you _sure_ , though?" Aurélie presses. "I can't forget anything."

"Trust me, you have everything," Delphine echoes her earlier words, which she's been saying for the last ten minutes. "You can check if you'd like."

Aurélie frowns. "But that's _your_ job."

Fabian shrieks something, and Delphine just sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose between two fingers; even on her day off, it seems as though this "other" life of hers is extremely stressful. _If this is what motherhood is_ , she thinks sourly, _she doesn't like it very much._

"I didn't forget anything, Aurélie. I packed your notebook, your pencils, your scissors, your crayons, and your workbook," Delphine lists off tiredly. "Now let's go, before you're late."

" _Crayons_? I don't have crayons," Aurélie says, already taking off her backpack and scowling. "Those are _Fabian's_ now!" She throws the backpack on the floor angrily. "I can't take _baby_ things to school!"

Delphine, shocked, gasps, "Aurélie!" She is not prepared for child tantrums; the baby crying is one thing, but for Aurélie to be acting up just seems like too much.

"You _know_! You bought me colored pencils!" Aurélie looks upset now, and Delphine senses this is about more than crayons. "I told you I couldn't take crayons to school and you said you _understood_! You—you _lied_!"

Delphine shuts her eyes, entirely regretful. "Aurélie, I'm sorry. I just forgot," she sighs. "Pick up your backpack, you're going to be late."

Aurélie angrily wipes at her eyes, where tears are welling up. "You don't even _care_!" she cries accusingly.

"Aurélie," Delphine snaps, her patience gone, "I will bring you your colored pencils. Pick up your backpack."

Aurélie yanks the backpack up by its handle, still upset, and Delphine shifts Fabian in her arms (he's _heavy_ ) and goes into Aurélie's room to pick up the colored pencils spilled over her bed. Delphine can't help it if Aurélie feels distanced by her. Delphine isn't going to be the same mother Aurélie knows, because Delphine has no idea what is going on in Aurélie's world. If Aurélie thinks crayons are more fit for babies, and if her class thinks so too, then how is Delphine to know? It's not her fault.

And Delphine sighs, because she's really trying to justify being such a bad mother. She doesn't even know why she's so bothered by this! It's not like any of this is real; she's just playing house for a family that isn't hers. _None of it matters._

Still, it does nothing to improve Delphine's mood, and the car drive to Aurélie's school is done is stony silence. (Also, Delphine gets lost a few times, and it's not one of her finer moments—she has no idea what school it even is, and just guesses it's the one closest to the house.) Aurélie is still sulking by the time they arrive, and she gets out of the car without so much as a goodbye, only pausing to tickle Fabian on her way out.

Delphine sighs resignedly as she watches Aurélie go. She can't help but feel like a failure, and it's not a nice feeling. This isn't supposed to be so stressful. Why is it so stressful? And to top it off, her cell phone pings not a minute later with a text that reads, _Meeting at Aynsley's. Bring wine._

Fabian babbles something incoherent as Delphine starts up the car. It's not significant, but Delphine desperately needs an event to tether herself to so she can remember that this is still happening. _Merde_. She'd hoped Alison had forgotten.

Since Alison is the usual babysitter (or so Delphine has gathered), Delphine shows up at Aynsley's house—which she not-so-subtly asked Alison for, as a general "fuck it"—with Fabian in one arm and the bottle of wine in the other.

"Delphine, you're here! On _time_ , too, unlike your wife," Alison greets, clearly a woman who values punctuality. "Come on in! The others are already here."

Delphine hands off the bottle of wine and enters, politely smiling at the other three women that are already inside. Aynsley, she recognizes, is Chad's wife. There's another blonde—Charity, she thinks, but she isn't sure because the name is so odd—and a brunette, the frizzy-haired one Cosima spoke most of the night to at Alison's party.

"I see you brought your baby," Aynsley says, not hiding the contempt oozing in her tone. "Couldn't get a sitter?"

"Ehm, no," Delphine says, slowly, unsure if this is a test. "Should I—"

"Forgive Aynsley, she's extra moody today," chimes in Alison, sending Aynsley a quick disapproving look.

"Probably because she's stuck in a loveless marriage," utters Charity quietly into a cup of wine, which she'd helped herself to as soon as Alison set it down.

Aynsley, however, hears. " _Excuse_ me?" she sputters.

"O _kay_ ," the brunette cuts in. "I think we should get started. Alison?"

"Right, thank you, Jennifer. First order of business: who's bringing the snacks next week? I know Delphine took them last, so it's up to either me or Charity next," Alison says, whipping out a clipboard and a pen from beside her readily.

"Actually, I think Marci said she was going to bring something," Aynsley interjects.

Alison's gaze turns hard. "Marci _Coates_? Oh no no no _no_. There is no way she can mess up our routine," she snaps, a challenge displayed on her face, clear as day. "It's settled— _I_ bring the snacks."

Aynsley smirks, clearly having brought up Marci Coates—whoever she may be—just to mess with Alison.

"The next order of business," Alison lists off, scribbling a few words, "is what classroom reforms we're going to argue in particular. We _do_ only have an hour."

Delphine sips at a glass of wine she pours herself, eyes darting to each woman seated around her, in hope that something will tip her off to what's going on. Jennifer looks equally uncomfortable with the way things are going, but she smiles politely and chimes in as Alison and Aynsley start to argue about _something_ relating to school dress code colors. (Charity seems less interested in the school-related conversation, and mostly keeps to the wine.)

"Blue and khaki is a hideous combination. My kids don't pop out in khaki," Aynsley argues. "I really think we should press for other colors to be allowed."

"Khaki is a nice color on my kids," Alison counters, frowning.

Aynsley gives a tight-lipped smile. "Well, of course, Alison—your kids are so... _urban_."

Alison sharply sets her clipboard down in an universal about-to-go-down gesture, and Delphine tightens her hold on Fabian, afraid; what exactly is this group meeting for?

Jennifer cuts in before any fighting can happen. "Anyway," she claps her hands, " _that PTA meeting_. We should get back to discussing it, right?"

Delphine's eyes widen marginally. This is a meeting...to _prepare_ for another meeting? And a PTA meeting on top of it? Is this really what she does in her spare time? (And does she _enjoy_ it?!)

Alison clears her throat. "Yes. Of course. The PTA meeting," she says, but she gives Aynsley a nasty side-eye.

"Delphine, do you have any thoughts?" Aynsley asks, innocently. "I'm sure you agree with me about khaki—God knows your daughter could stand to wear a different color once in a while."

At that, Delphine bristles; she may not understand why these women tend to insult each and their kids as if it is the norm, but she is not going to let her daughter be insulted. "Aurélie looks rather cute in her uniform, I think," she defends lamely. "I...I wouldn't insult your children, Aynsley, to stoop to your level, but I'm insulted that you dare to judge mine."

For a moment, no one speaks. Delphine suspects she's broken the one rule of the catty-mom-club: never rival the catty actions done. But it feels _good_ , as if this has been a long time coming (and it's only been one afternoon). Jennifer looks proud, oddly, and she gives Delphine an encouraging smile. Even Alison looks supportive. Aynsley looks befuddled, completely struck, and so does Charity (though Charity looks more struck because they're out of wine).

Delphine stands up, and hoists Fabian onto her hip, the good feeling remaining. "I think I'll go now," she says. "Thank you, Alison, for having us over."

And she turns and leaves.

.

.

.

_"I'm flying out to L.A. again next week," Delphine mentioned as she slipped a needle through a piece of popcorn carefully, working hard to get the popcorn string around the tree before Christmas._

_Cosima was no help; she was more focused on eating the popcorn, not stringing it. "Again?" she asked, her mouth full. "That's, like, the third time in a month."_

_"I know," Delphine sighed as she reached for the popcorn bowl. "It's exhausting, the travel. Aldous keeps telling me I may as well move there at this point."_

_"Aldous, huh? Didn't know you were on the first-name basis," Cosima said, stealing back the popcorn bowl and grabbing a handful. "Does this mean you're officially the_ favorite _? Are you going to become super famous?"_

 _Delphine rolled her eyes. "I'm not going to become_ famous _." She concentrated on the needle sliding through the soft popcorn and tried not to sweat over the fact that she_ was _on a first-name basis with Aldous. "And stop eating the popcorn. This was_ your _idea, you know."_

_"I didn't think you'd be into it." Cosima feigned annoyance, but her bright grin gave her away as she, too, picked up a needle._

_Apparently stringing popcorn and cranberries for the Christmas tree was a family tradition for Cosima, and she'd do it as a child. Delphine had been adamant against the cranberries ("They will_ rot, _Cosima"), but she had given in to the popcorn, even if she thought the tradition was strange._

_"You don't have to come with me, you know," Delphine said, suddenly, eyes fixated on the popcorn. "To L.A. I know you get tired of the travel, too, and you don't even have to go there to work."_

_Cosima looked up from her work. "Are you sure?" she inquired, carefully. "I don't mind going out with you. I can pretty much pick my hours at work, so I have the time."_

_"We never even see each other that often, though," Delphine continued. "I just think it would be easier on you if you were not to come this time."_

_Cosima's gaze dropped. "Oh. Well, okay."_

_"I think I've finished my half," Delphine changed the subject, tying the end of the thread tightly. "Should I put it on yet?"_

_"If you want, yeah," Cosima said, with an odd tone to her voice._

_Delphine didn't think much of it; she just arranged the popcorn string on the top half of the tree, and when she was satisfied, she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and meet Cosima's eyes._

_"I'm going to go to bed," Delphine said, after a tense, pregnant pause. "It's been a long day."_

_"Yeah, sure. I'll, um, be there after I finish this up," Cosima said, gesturing to her own popcorn string, something underlying her voice still, but softer. "Love you."_

_"I love you, too," Delphine echoed, and then she left._

.

.

.

"Best time of the year: cleaning up Christmas decorations. Am I right?"

It takes a moment for Delphine to realize Cosima is joking. "Now?" Delphine says, surprised. It is early January, yes, but she did not expect them to take down the decorations _today_ of all days.

Cosima shrugs. "No better time than the present."

"Like a Christmas present?" Aurélie asks, looking up from the coloring book she's been working furiously on since she got home. She's seemingly forgiven Delphine, too, in a typical six-year-old fashion; she hasn't mentioned the argument from earlier, and she's hugged and talked to Delphine since.

"Nice try—Christmas is over," Cosima laughs. "But you're cute."

Aurélie fakes a pout, but smiles before it can have any lasting effect; she seems to mirror Cosima's actions a lot. Fabian smacks his hands on the toys that line his walker and grins up at Delphine, as if he is backing up his sister.

"Are we taking down the tree now, mommy?" Aurélie asks, excitedly. "I can help take the ornaments!"

"Of course—that's your job! And Maman's job is lights. I'll take care of the star," Cosima says.

"You can't _reach_ the star, Mommy!" Aurélie shrieks in laughter.

Cosima clasps a hand to her chest. "My own daughter, insulting my height," she gasps. "I'm hurt."

Fabian screams happily and slams his toys again. This time, they light up and start playing some kind of music.

"I will take off the star," Delphine offers, her lips quirking upwards.

"My knight in shining armor," sighs Cosima dramatically, and she tugs Delphine into her arms, wrapping both around Delphine's waist. "Will you take off the lights, too?"

" _Brat_ ," Delphine mutters, cheeks coloring.

"That wasn't a _no_ ," Cosima teases, leaning forward as if to kiss Delphine.

"Ewwww!" Aurélie yells. "No kissing! That's _gross_."

Cosima lets go of Delphine, sticking out her tongue at her wife. "Yeah, Delphine, no kissing!" she says, and she reaches over and picks Aurélie up, with much effort (and pretends to stagger backwards, comically). "C'mon, kid, let's get started!"

" _Mommy_!" Aurélie giggles, her arms going around Cosima's neck. "Don't drop me!"

"My arms," Cosima groans. "I'm _dying_."

Aurélie drops out of Cosima's arms, her feet hitting the floor with a _thump_. "You can't joke about that, Mommy!" she exclaims worriedly. "Auntie Alison says it's bad, and you shouldn't joke about it!"

Delphine, at this point, is quietly removing the Christmas tree lights. Her fingers linger on a few strands of popcorn strings that are draped over the branches; she remembers this, and it makes her heart hurt a little more.

"She does, does she?" Cosima hums. "Geez, you tell your neighbor you survived lung cancer and suddenly she thinks you're on the brink of your deathbed."

The lights that Delphine has been gathering suddenly clatter to the floor. _Lung cancer_? All at once, a cold, sinking feeling starts up in her stomach. _No. It couldn't be._

.

.

.

_"You're calling in sick again?" Delphine asked as she stuffed her suitcase with clothing, frowning when everything did not fit; her mind wasn't on Cosima completely, as most of her focus was on her impending trip._

_Cosima was still in bed, and she shrugged even though Delphine didn't see. "I've been coughing a lot. Been getting some chest pains, too. I just don't want to get anyone sick at work," she explained._

_Delphine struggled to zip up her suitcase. "Oh," she muttered, her mind still elsewhere. "Will you be fine alone?"_

_"Yeah, yeah, of course. Don't miss your trip for me," Cosima assured her. "I'll be fine."_

_Delphine frowned at her suitcase. "Maybe if I just..." she trailed off, then stood it up and tried the zipper. When it worked, she sighed in relief. "Alright, I should be going." She turned around to properly face Cosima, and then noticed how feverish she looked. "Oh, Cosima, you look awful."_

_"Ouch, and you're supposed to be the one marrying me?" Cosima joked weakly._

_Delphine hovered by Cosima's bedside. "Maybe I shouldn't go," she said, resting her hand on Cosima's forehead. "You aren't burning up, but maybe you are a little warm..."_

_"Hey, no, you can't miss your flight," Cosima protested. "You go. I'll be fine."_

_"But if your condition worsens..." Delphine trailed off._

_Cosima chuckled. "Babe, if you don't leave, you'll miss your flight," she repeated. "Now go before I jump out of this bed and follow you to the airport."_

_Delphine smiled, just a little, and bent down to kiss Cosima's lips, just a soft peck, one that was barely there. "I'll be back soon," she promised. "Je t'aime."_

_"Love you, too," Cosima said, closing her eyes and settling back comfortably._

_(That was the last time they ever said that to each other.)_

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **This time I'm doing shoutouts! Thank you to the following people:  
> **  
>  thetravelingkid   
> Kaya Nautilus   
> dondi   
> Cophine   
> jackisdoctortom   
> LittleHaven  
> luluslemons   
> delphemeral   
> pageslearntothink   
> Also, merry Christmas, if you celebrate!


	6. To Be Broken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **H E L L O...it's me. Posting a short, late, and not very interesting chapter before everything in this story goes to shit next chapter bc i am very emotionally compromised over that BULLSHIT "in Memoriam" video BBC America uploaded. Seriously. i'll deny it exists fight me**
> 
> **Disclaimer: i don't own orphan black. what's orphan black. i hear it's rude and always killing off my faves.**

_When the quiet of the flat was broken by the door swinging open, Delphine knew Cosima had arrived._

_"Delphine? You home?" Cosima called, shutting the door behind her and flipping on lights as she entered. "I just came back from the doctor's," she added._

_Delphine was in the bathroom, the only previously lit room in the house before Cosima arrived, busy putting on earrings; unbeknownst to Cosima, she was just about ready to leave._

_"Did you?" Delphine said, raising her voice just a little; Cosima was in the living room, not far off, so while they were not speaking face-to-face, they could still easily hear each other. However, Delphine was only half-listening, more preoccupied with getting ready._

_"Yeah, I went there before, to check out my cough, and now—" Cosima stopped before she walked past the bathroom, choosing instead to linger by the doorway. "Are you going out?"_

_"Oh, yes, I forgot to tell you," Delphine said, dropping her hands from her face and studying how the delicate silver hoop earrings looked. "Aldous is throwing a party for me. For the magazine cover."_

_"Magazine cover?" Cosima repeated, lost._

_Delphine frowned and promptly removed the earrings. "Yes, I told you about it."_

_"...Um, no, you didn't," Cosima countered. "Did you get a magazine cover? Like, your picture is going to be on the front page of a magazine?"_

_"Yes. I told you this," Delphine said, slipping on a different pair of earrings._

_"You really didn't." Cosima frowned. "And what, you're just—going to a party to celebrate? One that your boss is throwing you?"_

_Delphine twisted her head, surveying how the new earrings looked in the bathroom mirror. "Yes," she finally said, still only half-preoccupied with Cosima's questions. "It would be rude to decline."_

_"You didn't tell me about this party," Cosima said. "Aren't I—well, shouldn't I go with you? I know it's not me they're celebrating, but...I'd like to be there. For you."_

_Delphine frowned again. "Non, not these..." she trailed off, removing the other pair earrings too, before she looked and caught the strange look on Cosima's face. "I'm sorry, what was that?"_

_"The party," Cosima repeated. "Did you want me to go with you?"_

_"Oh. No, you'd be bored, I wouldn't ask that of you," Delphine said, picking up yet another pair of earrings, this time securing them quickly as if that would secure her choice. "How do I look?"_

_"Beautiful." A pause. "You know, I wouldn't mind, going to the party with you."_

_Delphine hesitated; she still had yet to inform anyone of her engagement (or of Cosima's existence). "I know, and I want you there," she said, lying through her teeth. "But you've been so sick lately, and it'll be outdoors..."_

_"Yeah, about that," Cosima started. "I actually went to the doctor about those chest pains—"_

_Suddenly, Delphine's cell phone began to ring. "Hold on," said Delphine as she fished it out of her clutch, which rested on the bathroom sink. "It's Aldous."_

_Cosima stared at the phone like it was lit on fire. "I didn't know you two were so chummy," she said. "Exchanging phone numbers, throwing parties..."_

_"Yes, he's a nice man," Delphine said, not catching on to the jealousy Cosima emitted; she answered the phone instead. "_ Salut _? Aldous, yes, I'm on my way..." She walked out of the bathroom, brushing past Cosima without a word to her._

_Cosima picked up the clutch, following Delphine tentatively towards the front door, not close enough to hear every word Delphine spoke into the phone, but close enough to hear the airy laughs and soft tone of voice she gave. Delphine hung up as she tugged on her coat, and then she began to pat her pockets as if searching for something, so Cosima stepped up to her._

_"Your bag," Cosima said, offering the clutch._

_"Ah, merci." Delphine took the offered object, satisfied, before giving Cosima a small smile. "I'll be back late, I think. You shouldn't wait up—you should rest, after being so sick."_

_"Uh, okay," Cosima acquiesced. "We can...talk? Later?"_

_"Of course." Delphine pressed a brief kiss to Cosima's lips, then opened the front door. "Bye!"_

_"Bye," Cosima echoed, but Delphine had already left and swung the door shut behind her._

.

.

.

"Maman? Maman, are you okay?" Aurélie asks, loudly, in her oblivious fashion. "You dropped the lights!"

Cosima bends down to scoop them up, briefly eyeing Delphine worriedly. "Babe?" she prompts, gently, resting a hand on Delphine's arm.

Delphine flinches, nearly falling over at the unexpected touch. "Yes, yes," she blurts out. "I'm—I'm fine. I think...I think I need a minute."

Cosima pulls her hand away, hesitant, like she knows there's more to the story. "If you're sure," she agrees slowly. "We'll, um, get started here."

Delphine gives her a brief, tight smile before she quickly exits the room. She enters her bedroom—no, _the_ bedroom—and sits down on the bed, dropping her face in her hands. The sinking feeling hasn't left her stomach, and she doesn't know what to do. Maybe it's just something that happens with this "glimpse." Maybe Cosima had not been sick in real life. Maybe...maybe...

And then the tears come.

If this is all true—if Cosima had been sick—then Delphine had never known. But it would explain so much. The hospital visits, the coughing, the constant state of sickness...and Cosima had had to face it alone, because Delphine had left. She had _left_.

A knock sounds. "Delphine? It's me. I mean—of course it's me. Who else would..." the voice trails off, and then Cosima tries again, "Can I come in?"

"Yes. Yes, of course," Delphine says, wiping away her tears.

Cosima meekly pushes open the door, looking guilty, with her ring-studded fingers extended upwards in a gesture of surrender. "Hey," she says. "I— _shit_. Have you been crying? I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you upset."

Bewildered, Delphine just stares. "I—" she starts, but her voice gets caught in her throat, and she can't continue.

"I know you get upset whenever I joke around about when I was sick," Cosima explains, sitting down on the bed next to Delphine, hands curling into fists that she focuses her eyes on. "So I'm sorry."

Delphine shakes her head. "Non, non," she says, voice coming out hoarse. "I'm—I'm the one who is sorry."

Cosima looks up, blinking away wetness in her eyes. "For what?" she asks. "You have nothing to be sorry for. You were my rock, during the whole thing, I— _God_ , I don't know what I would've done if you weren't there when I was sick."

Delphine feels a wave of nausea overtake her. "But I—" I _wasn't_ , she wants to say. She wants to say anything, to convince Cosima that she doesn't deserve any apologies, but nothing comes to mind.

"No, really," Cosima insists, unclenching her fists and gently taking Delphine's hands. She's close—so close—and Delphine can feel the warmth of her breath, hear her steady breathing, see the way Cosima's eyes dart out to take in every detail of Delphine's face. "I'm—I'm basically completely, head over heels in love with you. I don't want you to forget that."

Delphine lets herself have this moment, guilty as she feels, and she places both her hands on Cosima's cheeks. Her fingers are cold, and Cosima's glasses awkwardly bump against her nose for a split second, but Delphine leans in for a kiss. It's the first (sober) one she's initiated since the glimpse started—she just feels so, so guilty every time Cosima kisses her—but it feels nice. It feels...like it's been a long time coming.

.

.

.

_"Delphine? Delphiiiine," Cosima called as she entered the house—late, as usual, with a magazine in hand. "My mom sent us some weird wedding planning thing—I think we're supposed to pick, like, a wedding color? I don't get it, but..."_

_No answer came, and after a quick search, Cosima realized Delphine was fast asleep on the desk of the small office across from their bedroom. Cosima gently shook Delphine awake, lips curling at the sight of Delphine in such a vulnerable state._

_"Cosima?" Delphine opened her eyes, squinting up at Cosima, but not lifting her head up from the desk. "You're home."_

_"And only a half-hour later than usual," Cosima joked. "I stopped by my mom's, and she gave me this." She placed the magazine in the desk as Delphine reluctantly lifted her head up._

_"Mmm," Delphine said, rubbing at her eyes before unsteadily focusing them on the magazine. "It's—a book."_

_"Full of color palettes," Cosima said, opening the magazine and showing it off eagerly, her smile excited like an expectant bride-to-be. "So, we have to pick one. For, like, bridesmaids and flowers and stuff."_

_Delphine stared at the page, not really looking, and sighed. "You want to do this now?"_

_Cosima's eager grin dimmed. "Well—I thought that we could."_

_"The wedding's not for months," Delphine said, resting her face on her palm to keep herself propped up._

_"Well, just ordering some things will take months, like the dresses and—"_

_"Let's do it tomorrow," Delphine interrupted, standing up. "I'm going to bed."_

_Cosima furrowed her brow. "It's seven thirty."_

_"Goodnight," Delphine said, not listening, and she exited the office without another word._

_Cosima dejectedly closed the magazine, but she didn't follow._

.

.

.

"You know what we need?" Cosima blurts out, after she breaks off the kiss. "A date night." At Delphine's hesitant look, Cosima continues, "We'll have Alison take the kids, and we'll go out and do something, just the two of us. C'mon, like before, when we weren't old and boring."

Delphine smiles, briefly. "Old and boring?"

"Well, okay," Cosima amends, "only _you're_ old and boring."

"Interesting, considering _you're_ the older one..."

Cosima shrugs. "I don't make the rules," she says, and she ducks the halfhearted swat Delphine aims at her.

For a moment, Delphine just takes in everything that is _Cosima_. The little wisps of hair that her dreadlocks can't keep twisted. The silver nose ring that she's kept, even after so long. Her winged eyeliner, perfectly done. Her affinity for necklaces and rings. The way her eyes soften as Delphine cups her cheek, the way she leans forward to brush her forehead against Delphine's when Delphine leans in.

And _this_ , this right now, is what Delphine realizes she's missing. She's been missing Cosima's wide, eyeteeth-exposing smile. She's been missing Cosima's jokes, her bad taste in movies, the way Cosima teases and cares and _shows it_ so well. Delphine misses _Cosima_ , and it's such a frightening thought, it makes Delphine's mouth dry—because she _can't_ miss Cosima. She doesn't deserve to hang on to any shred of hope _for_ Cosima, because it's all Delphine's fault, and Cosima deserves so much more—

"Delphine?" Cosima whispers.

"...Yes?"

"We left Fabian alone with Aurélie."

Delphine furrows her brow. "And that...is bad?"

"Did you already forget the spaghetti incident of '09? Of course it's bad!"

"...'09, that is a joke, because Aurélie must have been born much later..."

Cosima groans. " _Delphine_ , we don't have time for your literal-ness—we have to save our son from possible scientific experimentation," she says, getting up. "And we have a soccer game to get to in less than...I don't have a watch. Um. _Soon_."

"Scientific... _experimentation_ —?"

Cosima rolls her eyes and tugs at Delphine's hands. "You get the mini scientist in her uniform and cleats," she instructs as she pulls Delphine back out into the living room, "and I'll pretend the '09 spaghetti incident really _was_ my fault."

Delphine winces. "...'09? You're sticking with that?"

"Oh, just _go_." Cosima sticks out her tongue at Delphine as she swoops over to pick up Fabian. "C'mon, little man, it's time for a diaper chaaange!"

" _Ew_ ," Aurélie says, wrinkling her nose.

Cosima stage-whispers, in response, to Fabian: "Don't worry, your diapers aren't as bad as your sister's. Hers were _gross_."

Aurélie makes a indignant face, hands going to her hips like she's a parent about to scold a child. " _Mommy_ ," she huffs, "you can't _gossip_. It's _rude_."

"Sorry, sorry," Cosima says, but as Aurélie marches out to her room, Cosima says to Delphine, "I knew having Alison be the babysitter was a bad idea."

Delphine chuckles, but any witty reply she can give is interrupted as Aurélie yells out, "Maman! Hurry up—I'm going to be late!"

Cosima grimaces. "Definitely Alison's influence, then. I don't know where I went wrong."

(Delphine smiles to herself all the way to Aurélie's room.)

On the way to the soccer game, Delphine keeps lingering on the small things she keeps remembering about Cosima. Like the way she blasts dubstep music—and tries to sing along—during the car ride (though Aurélie yells at her to turn it off, so Cosima does, grumbling something else about Alison). And like the way Cosima sneaks glances at Delphine when she drives, like they're young and newly in love and can't stop looking at each other. And, especially, the way Cosima squeezes Delphine's fingers every time the car stops at a red light, or risks a kiss to Delphine's knuckles—this is a habit Delphine recognizes, and it hurts to remember.

When they arrive, Aurélie hardly waits for Cosima to park before she's scrambling out of the car, yelling at Gemma and Oscar when she spots them on the field.

"If anyone asks," Cosima tells Delphine as she takes Fabian out of his carseat, "she's your daughter."

Delphine rolls her eyes and plucks Fabian out of Cosima's arms, walking over to the field without a second thought. Alison and her husband are there, at the sidelines, and Alison lights up when she sees Delphine.

"Delphine! You're here," Alison says brightly, with a hint of surprise in her tone.

"I know, right?" Cosima jokes as she catches up. "I thought Scott was going to die of shock when Delphine said she didn't want to work overtime at the lab."

"Well, _I'm_ glad," Alison says. "We can get Jennifer and discuss PTA events."

Cosima groans. " _No_ , Alison, stop trying to torture my wife—she needs to have _fun_ ," she stresses.

Alison frowns. "What about PTA events _isn't_ fun?"

Cosima shoots Delphine _the look_ that Delphine has come to recognize as the look Cosima gives whenever Alison is around. The can-you-believe-this look that hints to good-natured teasing between Cosima and Alison, and one that Delphine finds herself infinitely amused by.

"Listen to the sentence again," Cosima advises, crinkling her nose pointedly. "Just...listen to it. PTA and fun don't belong in the same sentence. Ever."

"You've been to _one_ meeting—you can't just _judge_ the PTA."

"Yeah, one meeting that sucked out my soul—"

" _Cosima_."

The referee out on the field blows a whistle, effectively cutting off all conversation as the children dive into the game. Alison seemingly becomes a different woman. An extremely _competitive_ woman. Who shouts a lot. And tries to walk onto the field. (Twice.)

"Did you think about it?" Cosima asks Delphine, who stands looking out into the field without really following the game. Cosima's bundled in her coat—with her own coat pockets—but slips her fingers into Delphine's pockets anyway, despite the awkward angle she twists her hands into. "About us, getting away from the kids for a night?"

Delphine yelps. "Your fingers are _cold_ ," she says, flushing, and she removes her hands from the warm sanctuary of her pockets to bat Cosima's away.

"I forgot my gloves." Cosima leans against Delphine's side, teasingly. "C'mon, live a little! We haven't had a night to ourselves in weeks."

Delphine hesitates. "But the children," she starts, with no real argument in mind—the truth is, she's just hesitant to spend any time alone with Cosima. So far, the children have been buffers—the cause of close calls, a way to occupy her time, and a safe route out of being alone with her estranged ex-girlfriend. Or, in this case, _wife_.

"Alison's capable of taking care of them, even if she's anal about everything," Cosima says, and when she meets Delphine's eyes, Delphine sees the worry, again. The same worry she'd seen the first day the glimpse started, when Delphine had apparently disappeared. "Is there something wrong?"

"Non, of course not," Delphine hurries to blurt out. "I've just been—tired. Yes. That's it."

"You sure?" Cosima doesn't believe her, that much Delphine's sure of. "You're kind of shutting me out. I haven't seen you like this since those few months before the wedding."

Delphine stiffens at the mention. "When I left," she tests, carefully.

"But not really," Cosima insists. "I mean—you came back."

"Right." Delphine waits, just a second. "Because—?"

"I'm irresistible," Cosima finishes, jokingly.

Delphine's lips quirk into a half-smile. "Oh, _of course_."

" _Rude_ —but, you know, it's one of the things that make me feel like the luckiest person alive," Cosima says. "The fact that you came back after turning down that modeling job, even though I hadn't known yet about the whole lung-cancer-thing. _God_ , I don't know how I would've lived if you never came back."

And _that_ makes a whole new wave of nausea start.

.

.

.

_"Are we ever going to talk about this wedding?"_

_Delphine sighed when she heard the upset tone. "Of course we will, Cosima," she replied, cross. "Just not now."_

_"Right. Not now, not yesterday, not the day before..." Cosima was disappointed, and she didn't try to hide it. "We're going to end up pushing the wedding back, at this point."_

_"Fine. Let's do that." Delphine busied herself with packing, yet again, for another trip to L.A.—she couldn't meet Cosima's eyes, not yet._

_"What do you mean let's do that? Delphine," Cosima said, "we can't just make a decision like that out of nowhere."_

_"It is not out of nowhere, it is a practical decision," Delphine argued. "My career is taking off, and I can't have distractions."_

_"Distractions," Cosima echoed. "Wow. So our wedding—it's just a_ distraction _."_

_Delphine slammed her suitcase shut harder than intended. "What do you want me to say?" she demanded. "You keep playing the victim every time this conversation comes up. Yes, I have a job now, and I cannot be the woman who would willingly go along with your whims at any given moment."_

_"This isn't a whim! It's our future!" Cosima cried. "Doesn't that matter to you? Why else would you have said yes?"_

_"It matters, Cosima," Delphine snapped. "But I am not going to sacrifice my job for it. I have one way forward, and this is it. Traveling, spending time elsewhere, with little time for anything else."_

_"Even me," Cosima added._

_"Do not make me the—the bad guy," Delphine said, the odd phrase catching in her mouth. "I have to do this. For me."_

_"I get that. I do." Cosima pushed herself off the doorway to their room. "But what about us? Isn't that—shouldn't that—be important?"_

_"Cosima..." Delphine sighed, heavily. "I am doing my best."_

_Cosima looked down, briefly. "Right." She looked up again, this time more sad than upset. "So these promises we've made to each other, for our love—they're worth nothing."_

_"Cosima." Delphine reached for Cosima's hands, hoping her tight grip could relay her pain. "I am keeping my promises. To love you, to marry you. But I...I just can't do this right now."_

_"What—marry me, or entertain the thought of it?" Cosima asked, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I think..." She pulled her hands away, stepping back. "I think you should go."_

_"Cosima." Delphine lingered by her suitcase nonetheless, with quiet defeat. "If I go...I won't be back." She said if, of course, but she meant_ when _. She knew this was a long time coming. They'd been distant for so long, and hadn't communicated properly in ages, and even when everything was falling apart at their fingertips Delphine couldn't help but hesitate._

_Cosima wiped her eyes. "Right," she said, stiffly. "That's—that's fine. Great."_

_"I...I'll be by, later. To pick up my things," Delphine said, slowly picking up her suitcase. This was a split-second decision—one she was torn over, as she felt the tears prick her eyes—but one she knew she had to do sooner than later._

_"I love you," Cosima said, her voice thick, emotional—_ real _, tangible, and so near—but Delphine stepped back._

_"Goodbye, Cosima," Delphine said, quietly, and she waited until she was in the back of a taxi cab, on her way to the airport, before she let the sobs wrack her body, teary eyes fixated on the darkening sky—because she'd just let the most important part of her life go, and she didn't know what to do now._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **~you're welcome for the angst~  
>  yetanothereireannach  
> aranra   
> KNautilus   
> fan   
> SevadeValois   
> vivian820715   
> delphemeral   
> AwkwardTypeA   
> LittleHaven   
> trylonandperisphere   
> OB_DLB   
> Cophine   
> SprinkledWords   
> luluslemons   
> And you see those names above^^^? I love each and every person listed. Thank you for suffering through this painful ship with me. Bc everything hurts. UGH.**


	7. To Be Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **my update's only a day late guys i'm getting better at this. ❤️happy late valentine's day❤️ if you like that sort of stuff.**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> **disclaimer: still don't own orphan black.**

One thing about children: they don't pick up after themselves.

Aurélie has a tendency to leave her Legos everywhere. She is a quite inventive child, Delphine has come to know, and very creative, but not great at picking up. Picking up Legos would not be so bad, in theory, but Cosima adamantly refuses to pick them up (she cites the Lego incident of '07, which Delphine had just rolled her eyes at when she heard about), so Delphine is left with the task.

Aurélie, too, is very particular about her toys. She always insists on taking apart her creations and leaving every single Lego in a different place, as a preliminary measure (so Fabian won't wreck whatever she's made, which Delphine has gathered is more of a pride thing than anything). Delphine is busying herself with picking up Legos now while watching Fabian in his walker from the corner of her eye (not that he's doing anything interesting, just occasionally trying to kick his way towards the Legos).

"Come, Fabian," Delphine says after she's finished, reaching down for the little boy. He eagerly raises his hands up, and she hoists him up on her hip; she's been meaning to bathe him all day, and now is as good a time as any.

She sets his little bathtub in the tub of the master bedroom and runs the water, testing its warmth, as Fabian sits patiently on her lap. She can hear Cosima and Aurélie in the upstairs bathroom, just a few doors down, as Cosima too tries to prepare a bath for Aurélie (who insists she's _practically a grown-up, mommy_ ). It's quite funny, actually, and something about it makes Delphine feels content.

Delphine begins to wash Fabian, tickling him ever so often, which makes him giggle and splash the water, content. He's such a happy baby—he's always smiling, and hardly cries, and he's so soft and alive and _real_ that Delphine can't stop looking at him sometimes. It's odd, because she knows she's never thought that motherhood is her thing—it still isn't—but the concept of raising children doesn't seem awful, now. At the very least...raising children with _Cosima_ doesn't seem awful.

When she's done washing Fabian, Delphine wraps him in a soft bath towel and takes him to the bed, where she applies baby lotion to his skin, sets on a clean diaper, and dresses him in a pair of cute pajamas, to prepare him for bed. Fabian is patient throughout the whole process, mainly occupied with trying to grab one of Delphine's curls when she ducks too close. (He only pauses his task once or twice to offer an adorable toothless smile that Delphine melts for.)

Cosima knocks her ringed fingers against the bedroom door. "Aurélie insists she can wash herself," she says in lieu of a greeting. "But I think she just wants to sit in the bath water without doing anything. I'll go back in a few minutes, to wash her hair."

Delphine hums in agreement as she lifts Fabian off the bed and arranges him in her arms. Almost immediately, he drops his head to her shoulder, his soft blond hair tickling the side of Delphine's neck.

"He's worn out today," Cosima notes, going over and dropping a small kiss on Fabian's head. The little boy lifts his head up, toothless grin flashing at his other mother, before he drops his head back down.

"I don't think it'll be long until he's fast asleep," Delphine agrees. "Did you check Aurélie's homework already?"

"Yup, she only got two math questions wrong." Cosima slips her arms around both Delphine and Fabian, briefly, to nuzzle the side of her face against Fabian's head. "God, I love them. Our kids."

Delphine smiles, looking down at Fabian. "Me too," she says, surprising herself with how truthful she sounds.

Cosima lets go, regretfully, and sighs. "I guess I'll go check on Aurélie," she says. "I know I'm supposed to trust her, but a bathtub full of water is a bathtub full of water. Are you going to set Fabian to bed?"

"Yes, I'll just be a minute."

"Okay." Cosima exits the room, playfully calling Aurélie's name (Aurélie, however, just yells at Cosima not to enter, which is a request Cosima completely ignores).

Delphine goes into the nursery and gently lays Fabian down, covering him with blankets carefully, before hovering by the crib, hesitant to leave. She hums a few bars of a song her mother would sing to her as a child, even after Fabian's drifted off to sleep, just quietly relishing his presence.

The sound of the doorbell ringing echoes through the house, and Delphine tears her eyes away from her sleeping child to exit the room and answer the door (though she doesn't know who could be coming to her door at eight at night—it's practically bedtime, as far as Delphine is concerned).

Standing on the other side of the door, predictably, is Alison. Well, Delphine should've known.

"Hello, Alison," Delphine says slowly. "Did you need something?"

Alison's brow furrows. "You mean Cosima didn't tell you?"

"What—" Delphine starts, but before she can finish her thought, Alison's already brushing past Delphine and into the house, clicking her tongue disapprovingly.

"I _told_ her surprising you wouldn't be romantic," Alison sighs. "She's hopeless, I swear." Alison starts poking around the living room, inspecting the room like she always seems to do in Delphine's house, and nods approvingly at the box of Legos tucked by the TV. "I see you've started storing the toys in the living room."

"Yes, um, the toys...I'm sorry, what exactly did Cosima do?"

"Hmm? Oh. Cosima, attempting to have a date night with you," Alison clarifies. "I don't know why she doesn't just coordinate a night with you. If Donnie tried to spring a surprise date night on _me_ , I'd refuse! It's the principle of the fact—I don't like surprises."

"...right." Delphine's eyes flicker to the stairway, where it's suspiciously quiet. "I...I think I will go ask Cosima."

Alison hums in agreement. (Delphine can't get up the stairs fast enough.)

Aurélie is in bed when Delphine tracks Cosima down. Aurélie is not asleep, though; she is sitting upright on the mattress, listening as Cosima reads aloud a book. A quick look at the cover affirms the suspicion of the title: it's the first _Harry Potter_ book.

"—'Hagrid,' he said quietly, 'I think you must have made a mistake. I don't think I can be a wizard.' To his surprise, Hagrid chuckled. 'Not a wizard, eh?—"

A choked laugh escapes Delphine's lips before she can help herself. _Of course Cosima tries to imitate the accents._

"Maman!" Aurélie brightens, head popping up when she hears Delphine. "Are you going to read, too?"

"You have to do the French accents," Cosima agrees, and she reaches over Aurélie to pat the empty space beside the little girl. "Or, you know, you can always do Hermione's voice."

"Considering there are no French accents in this book?" Delphine comments, wryly, as she sits down anyway.

"But you're still Hagrid, right, Mommy? You're the _best_ Hagrid," Aurélie says, immediately shifting so she's not only snuggled into Cosima's side, but into Delphine's too.

(Cosima grins in response before she continues.)

.

.

.

_Delphine expected constant fights when she moved out._

_But, surprisingly, there were none. Cosima left Delphine to her own devices, and ignored Delphine as she gathered her things, opting to spend her own time at the bar, at the lab, or anywhere that wasn't the flat. Delphine packed all her things in two days and moved into a hotel temporarily as she waited for the landlord of another apartment building to write her a lease._

_Delphine's parents were smug and condescending when they found out. "I knew it was just a phase," Delphine's mother had sighed in French when Delphine phoned to tell them the news._

_"I'm glad you've come to your senses," was her father's addition to the conversation, and they opened their home and bank accounts to her again._

_(Delphine refused any of their help, and counted calling them as her second biggest regret.)_

_The first, of course, was leaving Cosima. Delphine regretted it, but she was too prideful, and couldn't go crawling back, even when she realized that their empty relationship had always just been one-sided. Delphine threw herself into work to avoid thinking about the breakup, and as a result, became Aldous's star._

_He was doting, and patient, and Delphine let herself be swept up into his glamorous life. He was older, yes, and his smiles were unsettling, but Delphine was an adult. She could make her own decisions._

_So she slept with him._

_Delphine felt disgusting afterwards. Not just because Aldous was a repulsive man—he wasn't so bad, she supposed, even as the lesser of most evils—but because of Cosima. Delphine felt like a_ cheater, _and it was unsettling, because she had no reason to feel that way; they'd broken up. It was over. Nothing would ever be the same again._

_(But sometimes, when Delphine was two bottles of wine in at night, she let herself cry.)_

.

.

.

"You're not mad at me, right?"

Delphine smiles, thinly, because of course she's not. "Non," she voices, still hesitant. "It's just—I thought maybe we'd stay in, tonight."

"But I got us reservations." Cosima pouts (mostly in an attempt to make Delphine cave). When Delphine gives her an disapproving look, Cosima amends, "Okay, Alison got the reservations, but please don't go out there and thank her. She's getting a superiority complex."

"I don't think that means what you think it does..."

" _Delphine_." Cosima levels her wife with a semi-firm, mostly-playful glare. "Go on a date with me. I promise it won't suck."

"Well, with such a romantic promise, how can I refuse?" Delphine says dryly, but she knows she's already given in. Cosima lights up, of course, as she catches on, and she immediately excuses herself to get dressed.

Delphine is about to follow, but first she lingers by Aurélie's door, checking again to see if the little girl is asleep. She is, as she has been for the past two times Delphine's checked, but still, it doesn't hurt to look.

Delphine then runs her fingers through her messy curls, and realizes she's not fit to go anywhere.

By the time Delphine and Cosima are both dressed, it's past nine. Cosima squeezes Delphine's hand giddily as they say goodbye to Alison and get in the car, so sneakily intimate it's as if they're teenagers sneaking away on their first date.

"Did you really get reservations?" Delphine asks, dubiously, ten minutes into the car ride.

"Yes, I did, why's that so hard to believe?" Cosima feigns hurt. "Don't you have faith in me? Or, really, Alison?"

"But you picked the restaurant. Not Alison."

"Yes, and it's going to be _wonderful_ , stop sucking the fun out of it."

Delphine watches as the streets grow longer and signs start to disappear. "Is it far?"

"Uh...yeah. Sure," Cosima says, squinting to make out a sign that she passes. "I...just took a wrong turn, but I'll fix that in a jiffy."

Delphine sighs. "Cosima, you don't know where the restaurant is, do you?"

There is a long, quiet pause, in which the car slows to a stop at the side of the road. "I...may have forgotten the restaurant's name, too," Cosima admits, sheepishly. "But we can call Alison? To find out?"

Then Delphine gets an idea. A crazy one. "What if we don't?" she asks, smile slowly starting to form on her lips.

(Cosima's grin, infectious and lively, soon follows.)

That's how they end up parked in front of a gas station, licking ice cream off their fingers as they eat Eskimo pies. Cosima's is gone quicker, as Delphine hasn't had one of these in forever (and is rather intent on savoring it), so Cosima attempts to sneak a bite or two ever so often.

"Delphine. Sharing is caring."

"You had your own, you brat," Delphine says, batting away Cosima's hand. "Now stop shaking. It's melting."

"Yeah, because you're eating it so _slowly_..."

Delphine giggles as half of it ends up dripping onto the car dashboard. " _Cosima_!"

"What—that wasn't _my_ fault!" Cosima laughs, but she mops at the mess with some crinkled napkins she finds tucked in her purse anyway. "You could've just given me the rest and saved our car."

Delphine tries to wipe her sticky fingers off with a napkin, too, to no avail. "Do not play the blame game, Cosima," she says, and laughs more as Cosima steals Delphine's ice cream stick and licks it off.

Cosima leans her head against Delphine's shoulder with a content sigh. "It feels like we're back in college, huh?" she asks, wistfully. "Hanging out in a car, being total nerds?"

"Mmm," Delphine hums in agreement, leaning her head against the crown of Cosima's. "I remember your car was a...a piece of junk, the saying is, I think."

"Hey, Betty was very faithful, don't drag her into this," Cosima jokes. "She took your ungrateful ass to school every day."

"Unless it broke down," Delphine reminds her. "And it did, often."

"Why are you complaining? That just meant we got to make out in it all afternoon," Cosima says impishly, and even though Delphine can't see Cosima's face, she knows Cosima is wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

"...I'm not making out with you in the parking lot of a gas station."

"Damn. Worth a try, though." In an instant, Cosima's head is off Delphine's shoulder and she's hunting underneath her seat, as if she's just remembered something. "Oh, and by the way, I know we said we wouldn't get each other anything..." Cosima finally finds what she's searching for, and a bright pink bag stuffed to the brim is presented to Delphine.

...oh. It's Valentine's day.

"I didn't get you anything," is the first thing out of Delphine's mouth. She's never been the type to forget dates, but somehow, this year's Valentine's day snuck by (mainly because, in her mind, it's still Christmas Eve and this is all a very surreal dream).

"Obviously." Cosima shakes the bag. "C'mon, open it."

Delphine gingerly takes the bag. "How did this fit under the seat?"

"Just _open_ it, Delphine."

So she does. It's mostly stuffed because of the teddy bear crammed inside, along with a makeshift card that's clearly the work of Aurélie; the handwriting is the little girl's. A quick peek inside and Delphine finds a little handprint on the red construction paper, which must be Fabian's work, and then Delphine realizes she's crying.

"Babe, don't cry," Cosima quickly says, reaching over to hug her wife (in an awkwardly positioned way, because they're still in the car).

Delphine clings onto Cosima, just for a moment, and lets go, shaking her head. "It's fine," she says, wiping at her eyes. "I'm fine." And she meets Cosima's eyes, and leans her forehead against Cosima's, and whispers, "Thank you."

Cosima shuts her eyes, and Delphine follows suit, until they're both silent and savoring the feeling of quietly existing beside each other.

Then, "So about the whole making out in the car thing..."

A laugh escapes Delphine's lips. "You are such a brat," she murmurs fondly, and she pulls her forehead away. "Let's go home."

(God, she likes the sound of that.)

.

.

.

_"You never wear your ring anymore."_

_Delphine looked down at her hands, reflexively, and then immediately forced a small smile. "Oh, yes," she told the cashier, a cheery blond named Krystal who was the closest thing to a friend she had. "Um, the engagement is off."_

_Krystal's mouth fell open. "What?_ No," _she gasped. "But you two were so cute! Is that why Cosima's never around anymore?"_

_Delphine nodded. She and Cosima had joked about who would get their favorite grocery store if they ever broke up, but she hadn't expected that would become a reality; Delphine had taken to coming late at night, just in case._

_"Oh, honey." Krystal gripped Delphine's hands reassuringly. "You'll be okay. Trust me, I'm the poster girl for failed relationships."_

_Delphine's smile became slightly genuine. "What about the latest boyfriend?"_

_"Oh, he's dead to me." Krystal released Delphine's hands to wave one of her own in a dismissive manner, as if batting away the memory of her ex-boyfriend. Her smile was bright and cheerful, but her eyes sad, as though she, too, could feel Delphine's pain. "You keep in touch, okay?" she said softly._

_Delphine gathered her groceries. "Of course," she promised, and with another forced smile, she left._

.

.

.

The day starts as any other.

Delphine is roused from slumber when Fabian starts to cry, and she rolls out of bed, usually receiving protests from a half-asleep Cosima. Cosima then rises shortly afterwards, and helps Aurélie get dressed and packed for school. By the time Fabian's fed, changed, and quieted, Aurélie is seated at the table, eating cereal for breakfast as Cosima combs the snarls out of her hair.

Cosima leaves after Aurélie's hair is done, usually, alternating between gulping down coffee and pressing kisses to Aurélie's hair, Fabian's head, and Delphine's cheek as she heads out.

By seven forty-five, Delphine has both kids packed in the car as they drive to Aurélie's school. Aurélie jumps out of the car and then runs off when they arrive, waving back enthusiastically as she disappears behind the gates. Delphine then drives home to get ready for her own job, which she leaves for exactly thirty minutes later.

"Hi, Dr. Cormier," Scott greets her as she arrives. "The tests are in."

And Delphine has never felt more at home. "Bring them in," she replies, already taking a seat at her desk.

She leaves work around seven-thirty, as she's promised Cosima she'll go to the grocery store. She checks the list Cosima texted her as she walks through the store, pausing at each aisle to add items to her cart. She's just finished adding bread, milk, and eggs to the cart (and is searching for the cereal Aurélie likes) when her day gets turned upside down.

"Your kid like Lucky Charms? I always thought they were too bloody _sugary_."

Delphine jumps, nearly dropping the cereal box in hand, as she comes face-to-face with Sarah. "You," Delphine blurts out, dumbly, as her heart races.

"Yeah, me. Sorry to burst your bubble." Sarah scuffs at the supermarket floor with a torn boot, unapologetically, as she faces the cereal as though she's studying the different kinds. "You're calmer than the rest. Whenever they see me again, they usually freak."

"So I'm not the first," Delphine says, methodically putting the cereal in her cart before turning to stare at Sarah, who won't meet her eye. "I take it this isn't a social visit?"

Sarah shrugs. "Look, I don't want to spell it out for you," she says. "You get it, yeah? Why 'm here?"

"I've thought of a few scenarios." Delphine recognizes the sinking feeling in her stomach, of course; apprehension is a recurring feeling, whenever it comes to Sarah.

"Right. You doctors are so cynical," Sarah scoffs, and she picks a box of bran cereal off the shelf as though she really is just a regular customer, shopping for groceries like everyone else. She finally meets Delphine's eyes. "You're not gonna cry or something, are you?"

"No." But Delphine feels the hurt crawl up her body, forming a lump in her throat. "Should I...I mean, I feel like I should thank you."

"Nah." Sarah offers a bittersweet smile. "It's my job. For what it's worth, I hate this part. The telling people."

"You still haven't told me anything yet," Delphine reminds her, and her fingers tighten around the cart handle, as though preparing for a blow.

Sarah tucks the box under her arm, and takes a step backward. "I'm technically not allowed," she says. "People get mad, you know. One guy tried to rush me. So I stay ominous or something, to keep people from getting hurt."

"I understand." Delphine hesitantly lets go of the cart. "So this is goodbye?"

"You're the one with a fancy-ass doctor degree," Sarah says, saluting Delphine as she takes a few more steps back. "You tell me."

And then she's gone.

Delphine stares at the cereal in the cart for a minute, then gives up expecting Sarah to swagger back in and say it's all a joke. Instead, Delphine goes and gets the rest of the items Cosima asked for.

When she gets home, Cosima's making pasta at the stove, and she smiles and greets Delphine, going to take some of the bags in her hands. Aurélie comes and helps get the light items, proudly placing the bread on the highest shelf she can reach in the pantry, as Fabian babbles in the background from his seat in his high chair.

Delphine feels her chest tighten at everything—at Fabian's voice, at Cosima's voice, at Aurélie's smile. Is it even possible, she wonders over dinner, to miss something that never existed?

Bedtime brings another common but painful routine. Aurélie listens to another chapter of Harry Potter, this time with Fabian seated on Delphine's lap and listening along, and then Cosima and Delphine kiss Aurélie's forehead as she goes to sleep.

This time, though, Delphine whispers, "Je t'aime," over the smooth skin of her daughter's forehead, and she bites her lip to will herself from crying.

Fabian falls asleep soon after, lulled to sleep after being rocked in Delphine's arms, and she repeats the sentiment to him, too, and stands over his crib, watching him for so long that Cosima goes in to find her.

"Hey," Cosima says, arms wrapping around Delphine's waist from behind. "He just fall asleep?"

He's been asleep for a while, but Delphine nods anyway.

"Well, c'mon, he's not going anywhere," Cosima laughs, and she tugs Delphine into their bedroom, her hands warm and soft against Delphine's hips.

They both get into bed after their own routine, in which they redress into sleeping wear and Cosima removes her glasses, and Delphine finds herself craving Cosima's touch when the other woman's arm slings around Delphine's waist, as usual. So Delphine places her hands on Cosima's cheeks, and stares, as if just willing to keep her eyes open will prevent this reality from fading.

Cosima grins as she's drifting off to sleep. "Did you have a ton of coffee, or what?" she yawns. "You're awfully awake."

"I'm just not tired yet." Delphine smooths her fingers over any part of Cosima she can—her cheeks, her neck, her collarbone, her lips—until Cosima's grin widens and she leans forward to steal a kiss.

"You're so cute," Cosima laughs. "And if you're not going to sleep, then _I_ am. I'm beat."

Delphine bites her lip, and curves her hands back over Cosima's neck. "I have to tell you something," she whispers, before her courage runs out.

"Yeah?" Cosima's struggling to keep awake, so her smile is sleepy, but warm.

"Yes." Delphine waits, just a few seconds, and says, "Je t'aime."

"Well, I'd be worried if you didn't." Cosima's eyes flutters shut, smile still on her face, as she leans into Delphine's touch. "And I love you, too."

Delphine closes her eyes and exhales, shakily. This is the first time she's forced herself to say it aloud. She's known it for a while— _God_ , how couldn't she—but saying it now, it's definitely been a long time coming. It's not just a declaration of love; it's a promise, it's an admittance, it's everything unsaid she can't possibly voice.

It's goodbye.

.

.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **i am totally here for the krystal/delphine brotp ok  
> **  
>  anyways thank you to these lovely people:
> 
>  
> 
> **KNautilus**
> 
>  
> 
> **Luz1979**
> 
>  
> 
> **Scottie2**
> 
>  
> 
> **SevadeValois**
> 
>  
> 
> **LittleHaven**
> 
>  
> 
> **Project324b21**
> 
>  
> 
> **paradisesurfer94**
> 
>  
> 
> **trylonandperisphere**
> 
>  
> 
> **OKImafan**
> 
>  
> 
> **delphine**
> 
>  
> 
> **sleeplessrivers**


	8. To Be Found

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **who wants to cry with me over jane the virgin and the 100? seriously im legit crying over the two shows and you can guess why...they pulled the usual "kill off the lesbian" trope^^ haha JUST SHOOT ME**
> 
> **disclaimer: orphan black has failed me too. i really don't even want it at this point.**

When Delphine opens her eyes, she knows it's late.

The sunlight is streaming in through her window, if the bright light currently blinding her is any indication. She shuts her eyes, and is suddenly aware of the pounding headache that hits her all at once. That already is a bad sign. That, and the dry taste of wine in her parched mouth.

She sits up, brushing her hair out of her face, and realizes her hunch is right; she's back in her apartment. Gone are the vibrant walls, the messy bedroom, and the sound of children waking up—Delphine is alone again, back in her real life, like everything that's happened has been nothing but a dream.

Delphine goes to the kitchen and pours herself a glass of water, vaguely aware that she's in the red dress she fell asleep in on Christmas Eve. She is weighing the pros and cons of fixing herself breakfast—right now, the usual slim breakfasts she eats are unappealing—when someone starts knocking on the door.

Delphine opens the door, half-expecting Alison Hendrix to be there as she always seems to be, pattering past Delphine to get inside, but it's just Aldous.

(She'd almost forgotten about him, to be honest.)

"Delphine?" He looks quizzical, since Delphine's in the same dress from last night (and probably has makeup smeared over her face). "You're not ready," he states, almost disapprovingly.

"I overslept." Delphine makes no move to let him in, just stands in the doorframe, _looking_. She's always never been really attracted to him, but seeing him now, she's struck with how old he looks. "We need to talk," Delphine finally adds.

"If you'd like." Aldous moves to step in, but Delphine blocks him.

"Maybe it's best if you stay out there," she suggests.

Aldous looks minimally annoyed, but he nods.

For a moment, Delphine stands, twisting her fingers and trying to word what she wants to say, but it comes out as, "I don't think I can marry you." At Aldous's deepening confusion, she backtracks. " _Je suis désolée_. I shouldn't have said it quite...like that."

"Maybe not." Aldous doesn't look very upset, but does seem vaguely troubled. "But we're both adults here, Delphine. No need to skirt around on the subject."

Delphine nods, slowly. "Right," she murmurs. "It's just—it's much too quick, for me. I am not ready. And I'm afraid there is a past of mine I need to see through."

"And your job?" Aldous holds it over her head, like a pawn, but with measured caution; he knows he's in charge of her career, and holds the power to potentially destroy it, and he's playing the card to his advantage.

(And frankly, Delphine could care less.)

"My job is not the most important thing in my life," Delphine says, firmly. "I hope that you will understand."

"Of course." Aldous lingers by the door, as if he wants to argue, and then shakes his head. "And the shoot reveal party?"

"I will have to miss it. Something has come up," says Delphine, politely as she can muster.

"I see." There's a touch of wordless admiration in Aldous's voice, and he steps back, preparing to leave." I'll see you on Monday," he says.

Delphine wordlessly hands him the ring she takes off her finger, and he holds it on his open palm for a moment—like he's expecting her to change her mind, surely—before he turns and leaves.

Delphine closes the front door with a soft _click_ , and then shuts her eyes and rests her forehead against the cool metal. There's a finality to this—her good grace with Aldous, her job, perhaps—but she just steps back and goes to find her phone, remembering that fateful text that Sarah had warned her about.

It still reads the same. Of course it does—nothing's changed. But it doesn't dash Delphine's hopes yet; instead of replying to the unknown number via text, she goes one higher: she calls. (The near-minute the phone rings is the most fearful moment Delphine's had in months.)

The phone crackles once, and then, "Hello?"

Delphine forgets how to breathe for a second. She's heard Cosima's voice so many times, and yet she can't hide the rush of affection she gets to hear it now. "Cosima?" she says, quietly, trying to keep the hope out of her voice.

"Yeah, it's me. Hold on." There's the sound of something dropping, and a barely audible grunt of exhaustion, before Cosima speaks again. "Sorry if I'm, like, disrupting something."

"I was the one to call," Delphine reminds her, and she waits, even though she should, technically, say something first.

There's a small pause. "Okay. Well, I was going through the storage unit of our old place, and there's some stuff of yours. I wanted to know if you could stop by and pick it up," Cosima says, and by the sound of it, begins moving things around. "If not, I can just mail it or something, but I'd need your address."

"Oh." Delphine doesn't know why she's surprised, or why she feels so disappointed, but her fingers clench reflexively over the phone. "I—can stop by," she finally says. "What time should I come?"

"Just whenever. I'm here until six." Cosima's voice is curt, professional, and something in her tone makes Delphine's hopes deflate right away.

"I'll be by in a few hours, then," Delphine says, and she waits for Cosima to add something else. When she is met only with silence, however, she just finishes,"Um, goodbye."

"Bye." _Click_.

Delphine's arm slowly drops, and she sets the phone down. She's never been hesitant to confront anyone, but when it comes to Cosima, it's different. _Everything's_ different.

(And this is just great; she has to book a flight to Canada as quickly as possible.)

.

 

.

 

.

 

Krystal hears Delphine before she sees her, and at the sound of the heels clicking against the grocery store floor, Krystal brightens. She hasn't seen Delphine in months, since she moved to L.A., but she's kept in touch. Just as Krystal is about to ask Delphine why she's visiting Canada, Krystal notices the strange look on Delphine's face (and decides she'd better take her lunch break now to discuss this).

"So," Krystal asks over salads she had demanded they buy, "is this going to be a thing? You coming by when you break off an engagement?"

Delphine cracks a smile. "It is nice to know you're enjoying my misfortune."

"Well, the guy _was_ loaded..." Krystal spears a tomato with her fork, grinning. "But if I'm being honest here—"

Delphine goodnaturedly rolls her eyes, because Krystal is nothing _but_ honest.

"—he was never in your league. He's, like, a six. On a good day, when you can tell he's rich, and _you_ are so far beyond a ten that it's practically a crime," Krystal says, pointing her fork at Delphine's face. "You shouldn't even consider this a misfortune. I think it's worse for me, actually."

Delphine quirks an eyebrow. "How?" she asks.

"I don't get to be a maid of honor anymore." Krystal, faux dramatically, inhales deeply. "First your failed engagement to Cosima, and now this one. I'll never recover."

Delphine's good mood dims. "About...Cosima," she says tentatively. "She's—she's asked me to stop by and pick up some things from our old flat."

Krystal's jaw drops. " _What_?"

"It is not—a big deal, or whatever you say," Delphine is quick to add.

"Um, yes, it _is_!" Krystal leans forward, blond hair forming a curtain to frame her face. "Are you freaking out? Did she call you? How did she sound? Is that," her voice lowers, "why you broke up with the rich guy?"

" _Non_ , of course not!" Delphine denies. "It...may have influenced the decision, but—"

" _Del_. That's _crazy_ ," gasps Krystal, clearly enjoying the drama she's not a part of. "Are you going to get back together?"

"No," says Delphine, resolutely. "I would not dare to presume anything."

Krystal pouts, mostly for effect, before adding: "But you've considered it, right? Getting back together with her?"

Delphine looks down at her plate. "I have," she admits, and when she looks up again, she sees the sympathetic look in Krystal's eyes. "But I...I made a mistake, leaving, and I cannot expect that she has not moved on."

Krystal's hands fly to cover her mouth. "Oh, I didn't tell you!" she exclaims through her fingers, positively scandalized, "I wasn't sure I should bring it up to you, since you had your new man and all, but a few months ago she came by the store with a woman. Shay, or something. I don't know think they're still together, but—"

Delphine feels her stomach sink. "That is, um, good for her," is all she can muster up to say.

"But wait, it's not over yet," Krystal hurries to exclaim. "There's still a chance! I mean, out of the blue, she calls you to pick up something? This could _totally_ be romantic if you'd let it be."

"It would hurt, I think. To hope," Delphine mutters, and she pokes at the salad just to have something to do. "I don't know what I'll do. Maybe I am over thinking this."

"Do you want me to come?" Krystal begins standing up, gathering the trash of her food, as if that will ensure her ability to join Delphine. She looks determined—and oddly serious—and something about that makes Delphine feel warm inside.

"I should do this myself," Delphine negates, and she stands up too. "But I will...keep you updated."

"You'd _better_." And then Krystal is tugging Delphine into an unexpected hug, perfectly-manicured nails locked tight on Delphine's back, and Delphine knows she's missed her.

.

 

.

 

.

The door of the flat is wide open when Delphine gets there.

The place looks the same, but empty, save for the boxes stacked by the door. Delphine hovers in the doorway, unsure if she should enter. She hears someone clunking around, so she takes a tentative step in.

"Allô?" Delphine calls out, and from the room next to the living room she hears Cosima drop something and swear violently. "Cosima?" Delphine tries, worriedly, and then Cosima comes banging in through the doorway, a few boxes stacked in her arms.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to keep you waiting." Cosima drops the boxes on the floor, and a splintering crash sounds. Cosima winces. " _Shit_ , there go the dishes."

"You are...moving out?" Delphine asks, quietly, taking in the sight of Cosima before she disappears. She looks the same as Delphine remembers, with clothes just as vibrant and ringed hands fluttering about, but her hair is short—so short, in fact, that a beanie atop her head covers it all. She also looks tired, eyes soft and exhausted, as though they've seen too much.

"Oh, yeah. This place just doesn't...fit. Anymore," Cosima says, waving a hand dismissively. "You know how it is." Then, she jerks her head towards the bedroom. "I totally forgot your stuff. I'll go get it."

"Your hair," Delphine blurts out just as Cosima is nearing the doorway, about to leave. "It's shorter."

Cosima gives her a funny look, like she doesn't understand why Delphine is trying to make conversation. "Yeah, it is," is Cosima's cautious reply. "Thanks for noticing."

"I...do not mean to pry," Delphine says, "but your hair...it doesn't seem like something you would change."

"Maybe not." Cosima still lingers by the doorframe, itching to leave and get Delphine out of her life, and her face goes careful and hurt all at once. "You don't have to do this, you know. Talk. You don't owe me anything."

"But I..." Delphine trails off, then exhales, shakily. " _Merde_. I did not want to—I am not sure of the saying—get off wrong."

Cosima's mask cracks, and she laughs before she can stop herself. "I'm pretty sure you mean 'get off on the wrong foot'," she corrects, and her smile lingers, because of course she remembers this; she's always found it cute when Delphine messes up with English lingo.

Delphine drops her head, sheepish, before she looks up again. "I'm sorry," she says. "I really did not mean to pry. I just—" _Know why your hair is so short, and I'm sorry I was not there for you_. "I have not seen you in so long," is what comes out of her mouth instead.

"It's okay. I didn't mean to sound...asshole-ish. I just didn't think..." Cosima pauses, mulls over what to say, then seemingly gives up. "I don't even really know what to say." She meets Delphine's eyes, just looking, and shakes her head. "But you look good. It's—it's good to see you."

"It's good to see you, too," Delphine echoes, truthfully.

Cosima's smile is fainter now, but as she ducks into the bedroom, it's at least still there. Delphine takes a few steps around the empty living room, remembering the space, and wishes she could sit down; she's so nervous, she feels as though she could fall over.

Cosima comes back in a minute later. "Sorry, it's not much," she says over the box in her arms. "You took most of it..." _When you left_. "I mean," she starts over, "I didn't know if you'd left this intentionally or not, but...just in case." She holds out the box, expectant, and Delphine takes it.

"So, where are you moving?" Delphine asks, choosing one of the many questions bouncing around in her mind, instead of taking the cue to leave.

"Back to the old US of A," Cosima replies, fixing her glasses, which have become askew on her nose. "I'm moving to San Fran, where my folks are at. My work has a branch out there."

"I live in America now, too," Delphine says. "In L.A."

"Really chased your dreams, huh?" Cosima smiles, but in a forced way, and then all of a sudden realization of Delphine's statement dawns on her. "Wait, did you seriously fly out here to pick up your junk?" Cosima asks, confused.

Delphine peeks inside the box, and she _does_ find it's full of knickknacks and irrelevant objects, but she just shrugs. "You never did say what I had left," she says.

"My bad. I probably should've." Cosima awkwardly pats her beanie, as if checking it's still there, and then takes a step back. "Sorry to keep you. You can go, if you want."

"Right." But Delphine doesn't leave; her eyes linger on Cosima's head. She knows the obvious answer to why Cosima's hair is so short: chemotherapy. She does not, however, want to blurt out that she knows about the cancer, because there would be no obvious way she would've found out.

Cosima sees her looking, though, and her posture becomes guarded in a flash. "Krystal told you," she says, and it's not a question, just a reluctant statement.

"Yes," Delphine lies, grasping on to the easiest way to touch on the subject, but by the way Cosima's face falls, Delphine quickly feels the need to elaborate. "But only...recently. I did not know, back then."

"When you left," clarifies Cosima, her voice sharper.

"Yes." Delphine matches Cosima's unwavering glare with a softer, much more careful look. "I am sorry I left. If I had known—"

"You would've stayed out of pity. I get it." Cosima takes a step back, like she doesn't know if she should stay or not.

"Cosima," Delphine says, ashamed that her voice wavers as she speaks, "I know it is hard to believe. I...I would not believe me, either. But you should know that leaving you was a mistake."

Cosima's expression becomes impassive, but she stays where she is, listening.

Delphine bites her lip, breaking the habit be damned. "I miss you," she finishes quietly.

Then, all at once, Cosima's expression hardens. "You can't just...say that," she snaps, and then turns away, back muscles tensing up. "You can't waltz in here and expect..." She stops, and her body sags, as if relenting. "It's too late, Delphine."

"I know." Delphine swallows thickly and tries not to let her pain show. "I would not wish to...ruin your life, again."

Cosima turns back around, the look in her eyes softer. "It's not just on you," she says, then pauses. "Well, most of it's on you. You were an asshole. But I don't know, maybe I should've fought harder for us. Or tried to keep in touch, to understand why you left. But I don't. I don't understand. And I think it's best if we just...move on."

Delphine weighs the options of describing her hopes, and instead blurts out, "I was to be married. To Aldous," just to have something to talk about. "But I could not go through with it."

Cosima looks like she doesn't know what to do with that information, but she settles for nervously tugging the ends of her sweater. "Delphine," she sighs, resignedly, "I don't know what you want from me."

"Nothing," Delphine replies, hurriedly, lest Cosima get the wrong impression. "I wanted to...apologize. And let you understand why I left."

"Because...you miss me," Cosima clarifies, skeptically.

"I always miss you, when you're gone." Delphine runs her fingers through her hair, nervously; it's curly again, since she did not pause to straighten it. "I'm sorry. That...you did not need to hear."

Cosima regains her impassive look. "It's cool. Just...you said you wanted to explain. So, explain."

"Of course." Delphine's hand stays where it is, rumpling her curls methodically. "I left...because I felt we had become distant. That was all my fault, I know. And I felt that you were holding me back. I truly was the—the asshole. The cold turkey asshole. I was very selfish."

"But what?" Cosima demands. "Something's changed?"

"I have realized that my life is not...what I pictured," Delphine replies. "I had a party to attend today. But I did not go. I told Aldous I could no longer make my work my top priority."

"Whoa. Well, that's..great, for you." Cosima looks slightly impressed, but she is still far from open.

Delphine smiles, faintly, before she continues. "I know I have no right to ask you this," she says, tentatively. "But...I would like to be in your life, again. We can just be friends, if—"

"No," is out of Cosima's lips before Delphine can continue, and Cosima's waving her hands frantically and backing up like Delphine's just confessed a murder. "Fuck. I didn't mean it—like that," she says, seeing Delphine's crestfallen expression. "It's nice that you want us to be cordial and everything, Delphine, but I just can't do this again. I think it's better if we stay apart."

Delphine just nods, hand falling limply from her hair. "If that's what you want," she says hollowly, her voice barely higher than a whisper. "I—I should go. I'm sorry."

"Yeah. I really need to finish up here." Cosima looks relieved Delphine isn't pushing forward, at least, but there's something in her tone that almost gives Delphine pause; Cosima sounds almost hesitant.

"I hope...you'll forgive me," Delphine says, gathering the box in her arms. "Someday."

"I hope so, too." Cosima smiles sadly, and without so much as a goodbye, turns and heads back into the bedroom.

.

 

.

 

.

"I took a flight this morning from L.A.," Delphine argues, tiredly, into the phone. "How are there no available flights? No, I understand it is Christmas, but what does that have to do with the plane—yes, I'll hold."

Krystal sends her a sympathetic look. "Can I get you that coffee now?"

"Please," Delphine sighs, sinking down on the sofa. She's in Krystal's home—which she turned up at after leaving her old flat—and she's so exhausted she may just fall asleep here.

"You can stay the night here," Krystal offers as she brings out a bright pink mug from the kitchen. "And you can book a flight for tomorrow."

"Thank you, but I really should get going as soon as possible," Delphine says, putting her phone on speaker in order to wrap both hands around the warm mug. She takes a long, much-needed drink, and sighs again. "I don't know what I'll do now."

"Oh, _please_." Krystal plops down on the couch, legs crossing. "You don't need Cosima to be happy. Forget relationships, you've done so well on your own!"

The corners of Delphine's lips raise slightly. "Maybe you're right," she agrees. "Relationships...they are not for me, I suppose." She goes quiet for a moment, sipping at her cup, but finally says what she's been itching to: "But I am still...sad. I can be sad even though it is my fault, no?"

"It wasn't _really_ your fault," Krystal protests. "I mean, Cosima was...she was..."

"There for me? Wanted to marry me?" Delphine takes another gulp of coffee and wishes it were something stronger. "I have a knack for ruining my life, it seems."

Krystal, wisely, doesn't add more. She just scoots closer to Delphine on the couch, rests her head against Delphine's shoulder, and lets Delphine rant until eventually, Krystal's drifting off to sleep and Delphine is following suit.

Delphine wakes, disoriented, a few hours later. She slips away from Krystal (who is a clingy cuddler when she sleeps), gathers their mugs, and occupies herself with tidying small parts of Krystal's home; it's the least she can do.

She also leaves her phone in the living room, so it's not until she's done washing the few dishes in the sink and wiping down the countertops that she notices a few missed calls. She unlocks her screen, and nearly drops the phone then and there. _Cosima. Cosima called her._

Delphine calls back, and doesn't know if she should be relieved or worried that Cosima answers right away.

" _So_ ," Cosima blurts out without pause, " _I have this thing for, like, jumping to conclusions? I'm sorry I was so rude to you. But you...you_ broke my heart, _you know. So I guess I wasn't ready to believe you just wanted to just—be cordial_."

"That is not your fault," Delphine says, stepping into another room as to not wake Krystal. "I have given you no reason to believe that I will not break your heart again."

Silence. Then, " _I don't want to give you the power to, either_."

"That is...understandable." And Delphine's grip tightens on the phone, emotion clouding her judgement, as everything comes rushing out of her mouth at once. "But I cannot help but imagine us, married. In a small home that is so uniquely you that I could not help but find it quaint, with nosey neighbors and imperfect friends, and two perfect kids that we would love with every bit of our hearts. I—I cannot help but imagine going back to loving you."

The silence that follows is worse than before. It's so long it's stifling, and Delphine closes her eyes, teeth sinking in her bottom lip, expecting the worst.

But, " _Delphine, it just can't go back to how it was. You know that_." Then, with a softer tone, " _I don't think we can ever go back to that. But I would really like to be friends. To start_."

"To start?" Delphine echoes, hope creeping in her tone.

" _Yeah_." And Delphine can imagine the tentative grin on Cosima's face as Cosima adds, " _Maybe we can just—start over_."

Delphine feels tears pricking the back of her eyes. "Well, in that case," she says with a soft laugh, "I should've left something behind, for you to find."

Cosima, surely, must know; that was how the two met, when Delphine left her textbook in class, and Cosima had gone out running to return it, nearly colliding into Delphine in the process (and utterly stealing her heart at the same time).

" _Hey, sorry_." Cosima is definitely smiling now; Delphine hears it in her voice, as Cosima echoes the same words she'd said to Delphine the day they met. " _My name's Cosima, by the way_."

"Delphine," says Delphine, the tears finally emerging as she plays along. "Enchantée."

" _Enchantée_."

.

.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **sorry for the cheesy ending! i really tried to make it more realistic but let's be honest, i promised a happy ending sooo...**
> 
> **before i get to the nitty gritty, shoutouts to these awesome people:**
> 
> **crieshavoc  
>  Luz1979   
> OKImafan   
> SprinkledWords   
> somethinelse   
> vivian820715   
> Scottie2   
> twig_height   
> KNautilus   
> trylonandperisphere   
> Cophine   
> theglassintact   
> awkwardgirl   
> Cody   
> canadiancop**
> 
> **and a huge, huge THANK YOU to everyone who has read, bookmarked this, given kudos to this, and commented in the past. This fandom has been so welcoming and kind and i'm just so honored that so many people took a chance on this story. seriously!!! look at the kudos count^^ (that's CRAZY) It's a miracle i even finished this fic in the first place - i'm so helpless lmao - but for so many people to be this kind is unreal. I can't thank you all enough!!!** ❤️❤️❤️


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